The Phoenix and the Snowbird
by h0tbread
Summary: Elsa was never meant to grow acquainted with the traitor in the dungeons. Hans was never meant to reveal his family's dark secrets to a queen he once tried to kill. Fire and ice were never meant to mend each other, teach each other, and dare to love each other. But expectations were always meant to be broken. Slow and angsty fire!Hans/Elsa.
1. One

_The Phoenix and the Snowbird_

'Twas on an August eve when the creatures' paths were crossed,  
The Phoenix and the Snowbird, while found, were still both lost.  
One rose from ashes of the past, the other conquered fear,  
The Phoenix and the Snowbird, saw each other crystal clear.  
Tho' time and conflict tried and tried to tear the two apart,  
The Phoenix and the Snowbird, mended one each others' heart.  
Fire and ice, two second chances, so different yet the same,  
The Phoenix and the Snowbird, fallen prey to lovers' game.

* * *

_One_

Prince Hans of the Southern Isles was dead.

At least, he was presumed to be, up until less than an hour ago.

Anna could've easily worn a hole in the carpet from her constant pacing ever since the news. She rambled on and on, but Elsa couldn't focus on the words. A grinding terror was busy clawing at her stomach, the unfriendly memories of Anna's near-death experience resurfacing again like they did all the time. But it was different now and somehow worse now that the man who had hurt her was sitting just a few flights of stairs away in a cell.

"It doesn't make any sense! He's _dead_!" Anna said for the seventh time; Elsa had been counting. "People don't just drown and then waltz back into Arendelle of all places. Doesn't he think he's had enough? Because ooh, I will _give_ him a reason to leave."

Anna turned again in her loop around the rug in the parlor. Her braids whipped with her body, somehow seeming just as angry as the girl they hung from. She had an expression on that tightly knit her eyebrows together, but allowed plenty of room for her rapid-fire mouth. Elsa watched the trail of her sister's pomegranate dress move fluidly across the rug, finding some sort of peace in watching it.

She probably should have been reacting like Anna was, but she couldn't. She couldn't pretend to try and find a solution while only muttering bad things about the man under her breath. All she could do was replay Anna freezing. Anna freezing because her sister had frozen her heart. Freezing because the man down in the cell left her to die. The scene had played a thousand times in Elsa's mind, varying sometimes to scenes where Anna didn't make it out of the palace, freezing beside the fireplace and melting away until all that was left of the princess was a wet stain on the rug.

Elsa blinked, and her sister was alive again, still pacing the floor, the offending fireplace behind her. Elsa hadn't been aware her heart was racing, but she willed it to slow down, if only so the pounding in her ears would subside so she could listen to Anna.

"Okay, okay. How about this:" Anna stopped pacing and held her hands out, gesturing to the story she was about to tell. "Somehow, he took over the boat and sailed it back to his home. He's holding the French delegates as prisoner, but doesn't want anyone to know they're alive."

"So why would he come back here?" sniffed another voice, the thicker tone of the former Custodian of Arendelle, Ingvalda, who ruled the country in place of the sisters' parents until Elsa's coronation. The new queen never claimed to have been very close to Ingvalda (she'd never been very close to anyone, after all), and saw her as a sort of distant aunt. Lately, she'd been spending much more time with the older woman who reminded Elsa of everything a monarch should and shouldn't do, always peering over her shoulder to make sure nothing went wrong. Elsa thought she should have felt slightly grateful for the help, but was never entirely comfortable under Ingvalda's watchful glare.

Even now, the woman with crow's feet tugging at her eyes and a silky olive dress hanging off her twig-like figure kept an eye on Elsa. The queen tried not to notice, but still felt a burning sensation on the side of her head.

Anna resumed pacing, mumbling about how ships were always disappearing and why did _he_ have to come back?

Just shy of three months after Queen Elsa's coronation, revelation of powers, and eventual closure which sent Hans back to the Southern Isles with the French delegate, a letter had come. It was from the King of Westernland, France, who demanded to know where his delegate was. The French boat had never docked safely home, or safely anywhere for that matter. No one in all of Arendelle's eleven trading partners- now reduced to ten after breaking off ties with Weselton- had seen or heard of the Westernland boat. It was assumed that the French delegate, his men, and Hans had all perished at sea.

Now it was over a year since the mid-summer's winter, which is why Elsa and Anna were caught completely off-guard when Kai interrupted their tea to bear the troubling news. Prince Hans was caught and arrested while attempting to steal a ship from Arendelle's docks. He resisted the guards, Kai announced after Anna had dropped her teacup in shock. But they were able to restrain him long enough to throw the man into prison. They announced he was scaldingly angry, as he seemed to heat up hotter than a stovetop when they dragged him to his cell.

Ever since their daily tea was interrupted, Anna had been wearing down the rug with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Ingvalda had joined them in the study the second she found out about the circumstance, but offered no advice on what to do.

The parlor, which had always made Elsa feel safe, seemed strange and rigid. The couch wasn't comfortable no matter how she tried to settle on it, like a thousands shards of ice poked just slightly through the cloth of the seat. The fireplace was empty, as the August heat provided more than enough warmth. Elsa had heard some of the maids saying they wouldn't mind another 'eternal winter' in this weather, but she knew she was nowhere near controlled enough to attempt a comfortable flurry. She had bare hands, and that was more than she ever thought she'd be able to handle.

"He _had_ to come back here," Anna grumbled again, pivoting. "He couldn't have just walked somewhere else and tried to steal_ their_ boats. I'm like, _this_ close to going down there and demanding answers," she said, pinching her fingers so that the only thing that might fit through would be the head of a pin.

"No," Elsa said immediately, finally contributing to the very one-sided discussion.

Anna stopped pacing again to look at Elsa, somewhat surprised at having her rant interrupted.

"I just don't want you anywhere near him," Elsa explained quietly, bare hands folded in her lap. Although she looked relaxed, she felt the opposite. Her hands were strained, her mind willing no ice to fly from them in the suddenly burst of emotions that hit her like a brick wall. She hoped that if anything became frozen, it would only be her dark blue dress and not something (or someone) important.

The confusion painted across Anna's face melted into appreciation as she left the rug and sat near Elsa on the couch. "Aw, Elsa. You don't have to worry about me anymore. I can take care of myself. I punched that guy right off a boat, remember?" she said, holding her arm up and flexing it jokingly. "He'd think twice before trying to fool us again."

Elsa came very close to smiling and didn't say anything more. No matter how capable her sister was, she would never, ever stop worrying about her. She could punch a hundred cruel men off a boat and Elsa would still be hesitant for her to approach the hundred and first.

Anna sighed and sunk deeper into the cushions, her legs sticking out an angle that flared her dress. "I just want to know what he's doing here. It's gonna drive me _nuts_ if I can't get an answer."

Elsa knew it would. Anna would theorize for days, left to her own devices. By tomorrow, she'd be practically breaking in to go pry answers from the man. Elsa shivered slightly at the thought of Anna having to approach Hans again. Before the gun was fired, she took the bullet.

"I'll confront him."

Anna and Ingvalda stared like Elsa had suggested to burn him at the stake.

"You... confront him?" Anna asked, straightening her back and sitting upright.

"We all want to know what's happening," Elsa said, eyes glancing anywhere but at her sister. "I'll get some answers and bring them back, if that's what you want."

"Elsa, if you're doing it for me, then you don't have to-"

"No, no, it's fine," Elsa assured, rising from the pins-and-needles couch and holding her hands out to insist it was okay. Ingvalda still stared with the unblinking gaze of a predatory bird. "I'm the queen, after all. It's my responsibility to figure out how and why he's here."

The look on Anna's face displayed an array of emotions. Some gratefulness and a dash of fear, but mostly curiosity that Elsa knew wouldn't subside until she brought a story back.

"Are you sure? I mean, I could get Kristoff to-"

"It's okay, Anna. I'm fine," Elsa said, though she didn't feel fine. She could write an extensive list of things she'd rather do than set her eyes on Hans again. But that short list couldn't compare to the one reason she'd do nearly anything; for Anna.

Ingvalda squinted, as if reading Elsa's discomforts like they were printed across her face. "I would advise you to not visit this man," Ingvalda said, nose high in the air as always, a regal grace surrounding her that Elsa knew she'd never achieve. "It's hard for feelings to get in the way of interrogations, especially when they're so strongly negative."

"Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable," Elsa said, collecting her skirts to leave. "I'll be back before dinner. Don't wait on me."

With a small nod, Elsa left the room and let out a deep sigh. Looking down, her hands were shaking at the very thought of going down to those cells. The last time she'd been there was during last year's episode, when she was convicted of treason.

_You might as well have been a traitor_, her mind whispered. _After all, it was by your hand that ice nearly killed the princess. It's was only by dumb luck that Anna survived._

Elsa closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to rid the plaguing voice from her mind, never able to completely shake away the word, _treason_.

"Fine," she muttered to herself. "Then this should be easy. Just one traitor to Arendelle against another."

With newfound strength drawn from that thought, Elsa began to head for the prison with only a slight detour to her room. She needed the assistance of two old, confining friends; the gloves. Heaven knew what kind of emotions she'd experience when confronting the treacherous man. Though freezing his heart didn't sound like a bad option, the gloves would definitely help with control. And she'd need all the control she could get.

* * *

When she entered the cell, the first thing Elsa noticed was the heat. The rest of the castle was hot in the mid-summer weather, but down here seemed exceptionally warm. Maybe it was just her heightened sensitivity, but Elsa still couldn't help rolling her sleeves up to her elbows and loosening her cape as beads of sweat formed under her bangs.

The second thing she noticed was the ragged figure sitting on the prison bench. Their feet were chained to a spot in the middle of the floor, a change from Elsa's own hand-covering cuffs. She shuddered at the thought of the iron constraints that were made just for her. As soon as she felt them tug at her hands, she knew they must have been customized while her father was still king. She tried shaking away the thoughts. Those cuffs were long gone, and she had to focus on the present challenge sitting in front of her.

She cleared her throat to announce her presence, since the figure hadn't moved since she entered the room. She instructed the guard to let her go in alone, she could handle him herself, and stood solitary in the hot room.

The figure raised their head, revealing a much changed man than the prince she'd met at her coronation. His groomed red hair was disheveled in a way that one could presume hadn't been brushed in weeks, if not months. The white coat he'd been thrown on the boat in was tattered and dirty, and looked charred in places. It had more brown to it than white. A thin, red stubble speckled his lower face. Even his eyes were different. No hint of the amiable, pleasant man with the smiling green eyes that Anna had fallen in love with. No, the cheery green had become rock solid as he glared at the queen.

"Oh, it's only you," he said, then looked down again.

Elsa stared for a moment, trying to put meaning to his words. His lack of formalities were irritating, but didn't necessarily surprise her.

"Only me?" Elsa asked. "I'm the queen, there's no 'only' about me."

He raised his head again, in a way that showed more sarcasm than reluctance.

"Forgive me, 'your majesty'. I was expecting your sister to be the first on the welcoming committee. Am I really so special that the queen is the first to greet me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Elsa said coldly. "I refused to let Anna go anywhere near you. She expressed a sentiment to greet you with another punch."

"Am I supposed to thank you for sparing me?" Hans asked, back still slouched, elbows resting on his knees and hands draped limply.

Seeing that idle conversation wasn't getting anywhere, Elsa held her hands tightly clasped in front of her. "I want to know what business you have in Arendelle."

"My business is my own," Hans sneered.

"And _my_ business is knowing how the French delegate's ship never arrived safely back in Westernland, and why you suddenly surface nearly a year after its disappearance" Elsa said, growing frustrated.

Hans' firm eyebrows grew lax, if only for a moment, before they knit together again. His lips stayed pressed together. He wasn't about to spill any secrets.

"Why Arendelle?" Elsa tried, hands still clapped together, layers of glove keeping them from touching. "Of the many places that now no longer welcome you, Arendelle should have been the last place to expect help."

The stone walls radiated heat and Elsa felt a bead of sweat trickle down her neck. She hoped he didn't think she was sweating out of nervousness. Not that she wasn't nervous, of course, but she hoped it wasn't too obvious.

If he was bothered by the heat, he didn't outwardly show it. His eyes stared at the hot stone wall directly in front of him, still not speaking. Elsa began to grow angry at his lack of answers. What else had she expected, though? An open book? The last time he'd been here, his true self was locked away so tight that she doubted it was even the same person.

But at last, he did speak. "I didn't intend to stay. I just need a boat, and then you'll never see me again."

"That doesn't answer my question," Elsa said, frowning. He still wouldn't look at her.

A moment passed, and Hans rose from the bench, standing only a few inches taller than Elsa but still intimidating. Despite knowing the guards were right outside and that he was in chains, she still felt all her alarms raised. She lifted her left hand and pinched some exposing arm to keep herself in control.

"I think we can come to an understanding. You are a fair queen, after all, aren't you?" he said, a hint of the past charm seeping in. Elsa didn't buy it for a moment.

"You are in no position to be making bargains," Elsa said, holding her head high.

"You and the rest of your kingdom wants me gone. All I ask is that you give me a small ship and minimal supplies, and I'll be gone forever. I don't need your money, your men, or your crown," he continued.

"You can't honestly think I'd grant your wish," Elsa said with a small, humorless laugh. "If you need a boat to sail back to the Southern Isles, I can happily arrange-"

"No!" Hans interrupted, his facade evaporating into an expression of utter panic.

Startled, Elsa blinked as Hans realized he'd let more be said by actions than words. He looked down and seemed to shrink a little, like in that one moment he was laid bare.

"I just... need a ship," he repeated. "You'll never see me again."

It was very, very tempting. There was little more that Elsa longed for than to see Anna happy and safe, and Hans' presence endangered that.

On the other hand, the last thing she wanted to do was give Hans what he wanted.  
"No," she said simply, head still held high.

Hans' face filled with distraught, which soon turned to anger. "Why not?"

"I have no reason to trust you. No reason to have mercy or be kind, after what you did," Elsa said as another bead of sweat trickled down her face. She wiped it away, wondering if the day was getting hotter or if it was just this cell. "I'm not obligated to give a spoiled prince everything he wants."

"Spoiled?" Hans laughed, his smile more twisted than humored. "You think I'm spoiled?"

"A man who has to deceive and kill two monarchs because he wants a castle is a tell-tale sign of being spoiled," Elsa said, turning on her heel. "You will be kept down here until we figure out what to do with you."

"You want to talk about _spoiled_?" Hans nearly yelled. Elsa turned around to face his outburst, all alarms still blaring. "Spoiled is a girl who shuts her little sister out of her life and never tells her why."

Elsa couldn't breathe. It was so hot out today, and her throat began closing. "Shut up," she managed weakly.

"Who pretends like her sibling is nearly invisible to the point where to get attention, her sister accepts a _marriage proposal_ after a few hours in their acquaintance."

"Shut up," she gasped, heart thudding. It was as if Hans had found a written list of everything she was ashamed of and was stabbing her with each word, as if these thoughts hadn't flown through her mind each day, time after time, always grabbing at her heart and branding it with searing pain.

"_Spoiled _is a woman who can't face her problems, so she runs from them, not caring at all for who she might be hurting, who else will have to face the consequences, who after her sister searches high and low for, will _freeze_-"

"Shut _UP_," Elsa yelled, clenching her fists as ice curled around and over her gloves, freezing her hands into solid blocks. The room seemed to drop thirty degrees at least, and the malicious expression Hans wore faded away as he noticed the temperature. Small patterns of ice began to twirl away from where she stood, crackling as it spread across the floor.

Elsa was breathing heavily when the guard rushed in, asking if she was all right. She nodded slightly, closing her eyes and trying to make all the replays of her sins towards Anna go away. But they wouldn't thaw. They froze to the front of her mind and refused to leave.

She steadied her breathing enough to seem normal and weakly told the guard she'll just be another moment. He bowed hesitantly and walked out the door, leaving it ajar for her to follow.

Elsa looked back to Hans one last time, her eyes now as cold as his had been. He stared with wide, bright eyes, an expression that if she had not known better might have been admiration.

"You will not get a ship. You will stay here until my people and I decide your fate," Elsa said, trying to be intimidating, but a wavering voice giving her away.

She was almost out the door when Hans attempted to have the last word.

"Imagine being in Anna's place. That was me, but with twelve older brothers. Brothers who either shut me out or treated me like trash. You can't understand what it's like."

Elsa stopped at the door, intending to leave without another word, but unable to. She turned her head slightly, so she could see his red hair out of the corner of her eye.

"I have no sympathy for you," she said, and with that, nodded to the guard to close the door.

She didn't wait to be accompanied and walked as fast as she could away from that horrible man's cell. She was barely held together, and couldn't wait to retreat to her room until she could summon memories of love to thaw her gloves out.

Elsa thought that freeing herself as the snow queen would finally make her happy, make her carefree. But if her own mind couldn't help but recollect every faulty choice she'd made, then she'd never truly be freed. She was just as shackled as the person sitting in the scalding, icy cell.

* * *

**Wow, weird to be writing FanFiction again. Two years ago, I 'retired' to move onto works of my own. And hey, I did get two novels out of it, but Iceburns had a certain appeal that just had to be answered and fulfilled.**

**So if you're looking for a good 'ol fire!Hans/Elsa story full of angst, you're in the right place. I'll try and keep a normal updating schedule. Hope this ongoing contribution will be worthy of the fandom.**


	2. Two

_Two_

It was three o'clock and teacups were set next to dainty plates holding miniature sandwiches. Elsa and Anna's new tradition of daily tea was already familiar, but Elsa couldn't remember the first thing about how to be a good tea-time partner.

Anna never ran out of words. She talked on and on, filling the gap that Elsa left. Not that chatty was a bad thing. On the contrary, Elsa liked that Anna was talkative. It gave her time to know her sister better, now that walls had been knocked down. And the queen was good at listening, so they made a perfect match.

However, not even Anna made much more comment than, "Wow, it's really hot today, huh? Sure is a scorcher," to which Elsa nodded, tapping one finger in her tea and watching crystals form across the liquid's surface.

They both wanted to talk about Hans, and simultaneously didn't. What they were certain of is that they didn't want to be the one to bring him up.

Not able to stand the silence, Anna took the plunge. "What are we going to do with him?"

Elsa didn't look up from her icy tea. She didn't mind warm drinks, but tea set on ice always felt more natural to her cold blood. Not even iced tea seemed appealing right now.

"Kristoff says we should send him back to his home," Anna continued when Elsa failed to add her thoughts. "He said they might want a letter first, but he wants him gone as soon as possible. Who knew he'd be a worrier, right?" Anna laughed a little, twisting one of her friendly braids around her finger.

Elsa still said nothing, wanting to smile but unable to.

Anna abandoned her braid, letting it hang limp again as her finger resorted to tapping restlessly on the table. "You... you never figured out why he was here?" she asked, quieter.

Elsa looked up from her tea to meet Anna's curious eyes. She was attempting to mask her interest but miserably failing.

"Not exactly," Elsa finally said, slowly. "I... lost my temper, speaking to him. I left before I could find out very much."

"Are you okay?" Anna asked, reaching across the table. Instinctively, Elsa pulled her bare hands from her cup to under the table, immediately holding her arms.

The sisters paused, and Anna drew her hand back. Her expression grew sheepish, guilty even. "Sorry. I just forget you're so... touchy."

Elsa looked down at her hands and bit her inner lip. "No, don't apologize. I... I should be getting used to touch."

She brought her hands to the table again, though Anna didn't reach for them a second time. Elsa wasn't sure if she was relieved or sad. She hoped Anna didn't see they were slightly shaking.

"I did find out that he wants a ship," Elsa tried to get back into their previous conversation. "He promised that if I gave him one, we'd never see him again.."

"And you said no?" Anna asked, mouth full of sandwich, spewing crumbs across the table.

"Why would I say yes?" Elsa asked, reaching to sip her tea, but finding it frozen solid. "I have no reason to trust him and no reason to grant his wishes. Nothing he says can be taken for truth."

Anna nodded as she chewed, staring out the window of the parlor. "Ingvalda says that the Southern Isles probably won't have very good trading for a while. She's worried about ours, too. Said that after shutting out Weselton and the Southern Isles, something about exports and imports going down. I'm not really sure what that means, but she seemed pretty passionate."

Elsa wondered if this was another one of her selfish acts. Closing trade with not only her closest trading partner, but also one of the most influential kingdoms. The Southern Isles weren't completely unknown to Elsa before Hans came into their lives. They had their hands in many cookie jars, as a few sons were married to princesses or nobles in other kingdoms. Whatever formalities they'd been taught when trying to find their own place away from home, Hans must never have learned.

Anna's hand went back to playing with a braid, twirling it around and pulling on the end. She stared out the window into the burning summer mid-day. The sun shone bright and big in the sky in a way that made Elsa feel slightly sick. The heat always made her feel like she was melting, but Anna couldn't get enough of the daylight.

"You should go out," Elsa suggested. "Get your mind off all this."

Anna tore her gaze from the window, like she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "No, no, I'm fine. I don't mind-"

"Anna," Elsa said firmly, cocking her head slightly in her sister's direction. "You look like you're serving a prison sentence. Go enjoy yourself."

The younger woman looked out the window again, longing to leave, but hesitant. "I don't want to leave you inside. I know you don't like the sun, and it's the middle of tea, and I-"

"Go find Kristoff, tell him to get Sven, and have a horse race. Queen's orders," Elsa said, a smile finally cracking through her surface.

As if her sister's smile had given her more freedom than her words, Anna smiled even brighter, bringing more color to her rosy cheeks. She jumped from her seat, nearly knocking a teacup over in her haste.

"Thanks, Elsa!" she said, prancing over and reaching out, but stopping halfway to Elsa, arms outstretched in an unfinished hug. "Oh, I, uh... can I- is it okay..?"

Elsa smiled again. "Hug?"

Anna bit her lip and shrugged. "Well, if you insist. You said it, not me." But she rushed at Elsa and held her in a tight embrace that felt constricting, but comfortable.

Anna seemed to be the only thing that could make Elsa smile or feel comfortable. She'd always been the most important thing in Elsa's life, but now that Anna knew her as she was and was still willing to crush her in hugs like these, Elsa knew that her heart was there, because it was filled up with love.

All too soon, Anna jumped back up and waved as she called out, "Goodbye! Thanks again!" and left the room.

The parlor became much drearier when the ray of sunshine returned to her natural environment. Elsa was left with a sticky-hot room and a cup full of tea flavored ice.

Elsa rose from her seat and wandered the room aimlessly, trying to think of nothing. She thought about how wonderful it would be to have no subject on the mind, just aimless fancies. Unfortunately, not even the queen could afford luxuries like that.

Her feet stopped in front of the fireplace. It wasn't lit, didn't even have logs in it. The thought of a fire made her skin crawl. More heat was the last thing she wanted. Without thinking, she held her palm out and let a blast of ice fill the stone interior. She watched the snowflakes drift from the top of the fireplace to the bottom, falling like pure white ash. In an instant, she felt better, watching her snow fall.

Ever since she'd been exposed as the snow queen, she'd gained at least one thing besides Anna. She gained a love for what she could do. It had the potential to be dangerous, to be uncontrollable and a danger to everyone she loved. But it was still beautiful. She'd built a castle with the ice, made snow fall in July, and even created life with the love and happiness she poured into her creation.

Elsa looked at her hands, turning them over as she stared. She'd viewed her powers as a curse ever since she began to hide it. But after all these years, she might have been wrong. It was as that troll had said so many years ago, her gift was a great beauty, but had the capability to be incredibly dangerous. If she was in control of it, she could creates wonders that others would only dream of.

She turned from the fireplace that had stopped snowing, and looked out at the hot room. Outstretching her arms, Elsa let snow and ice jet from her fingertips. A blast of icy wind knocked a few hairs out of place, but she didn't mind. Crystals of ice and dainty snowflakes fell from the ceiling and began to coat their tea and sandwiches.

It made Elsa feel giddy. Spending time with Anna to make up for the lost years was priceless, but time alone still felt like a huge, refreshing sigh. Alone time meant she could make it snow in the parlor and enjoy her own personal show.

Watching the snow fall into her hair and on her clothes made Elsa feel calmer, more in control. She'd caused this miniature storm, and her hands were capable in holding it steady. No flurries, no vortexes of polar air, no icy apocalypse. Just a queen and the work of her own two hands.

The power made her feel indestructible, if only for a few moments. Nothing could hurt her, nothing was more powerful and more in control than she was. Under this impression, the snow queen decided that rather than have the comfort of being alone, she'd call on the prisoner a second time. She was strong now, she could take any bad thing he threw at her. If he so much as made her feel even slightly insecure, her hands would be bare and perfect for freezing his lips together. Besides, Anna still wanted answers. Elsa could see that in her sister's eyes. And if Anna was happy, Elsa would be happy, no matter how much pain she might go through to get that happiness.

So Queen Elsa left her wintery oasis and left her gloves behind, setting out to find the answers that Anna still hadn't received.

* * *

The courage Elsa had felt in the parlor seemed to suddenly melt away in the depths of the prison.

The halls were darker than the world above and still hot, though not quite as hot as yesterday. Which was strange, since the day before hadn't been as warm. The stone walls partnered with the solid wooden doors to keep the few inmates from escaping.

Elsa was dressed in a gown with sleeves cut just below her elbow and a neckline that gave her skin room to breathe. She was beginning to wonder if she should have grabbed her gloves after all. With each step, she doubted why she would ever think to come down a second time. It was obvious she wasn't going to get answers from him without somehow emotionally collapsing.

_If only you could be a little stronger_, her inner voice chided. _If only you didn't snap and break at the slightest provocation_.

"Enough," she mumbled to herself, fists clenched as a thin line of ice trailed behind her. "I'm in control. I _am _strong. I'm the queen of Arendelle, and this man is going to tell me why he's here and why he needs a boat."

Not a moment later, the cell came into sight, complete with the two guards Elsa had set on duty. She informed them that she would have a few minutes alone with the prisoner. Her men looked wary, obviously having caught rumors of what occurred the previous day with the solid blocks of ice encasing her fists. But neither were going to be the person who said no to the queen, and they let her pass.

The cell was higher in temperature than the rest of the jail, just like before, though it was more tolerable than the blistering heat of yesterday. Elsa would have to call on some people to figure out the strange heat of her castle. The man stared out the window, only turning when the door closed behind them.

Hans looked just as bedraggled as before, and had rolled his sleeves up on crossed arms. His eyebrows were raised in interest, then in surprise as he saw his visitor was once again the queen.

Elsa stopped a few steps into the small room. Seeing him again reminded her of the disastrous confrontation of yesterday. No, she wouldn't lose herself this time. Hands tensed, she mentally chanted that she was in control.

"Queen Elsa?" Hans asked, dropping his crossed arms. "Perhaps you've changed your mind about the ship?"

"Perhaps not," Elsa responded. Her eyes had remained on his hands, however. Specifically, his gloved hands. His sleeves were rolled back to cool his arms, no doubt, but Elsa thought that hands might get even hotter with gloves on...

Hans might have seen her staring or not, but pulled his hands behind his back anyway, giving Elsa no choice but to look elsewhere. She chose his face.

"Then to what do I owe the honor?" Hans asked, eyebrows set firmly back in place after the initial surprise. "I thought I drove the queen away when I caused her to freeze her own hands solid."

The memory made Elsa's fingers prickle with tiny ice shards, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

"Then you thought wrong," Elsa said haughtily. "Unfortunately for you, the love for my sister outweighs my hatred for you. I still haven't gotten an answer."

"An answer?" he asked, one red eyebrow raising again.

"Multiple answers, actually. I want to know why you're here and why you need a ship. I want the truth, do you understand? Your lies may have worked in the past, but now you're not a stand-in leader. You're a miserable man trapped in a prison."

Hans squinted, as if trying to read the words as Elsa said them.

"And if I don't tell the truth?" he asked after a moment.

"I'll know," Elsa bluffed. She held her hands up and sprayed a thin mist of snow into the air. "And this time, the gloves aren't here to muffle me."

Hans stared at the snowflakes as they drifted down, catching on his coat in a desperate attempt to return it to its former white, but they melted (did Elsa hear them sizzle?) as soon as they came into contact with him. After multiple seconds of watching, Hans actually... smiled. His lips curled up in a way that wasn't all innocent, but wasn't all guilty either.

"At the risk of another snowstorm, I'll give you your answers. Though you might find a few hard to believe," he said, taking a seat on his bench.

There were no words for far too long. Elsa stood tall, looking the exact picture of control and power while feeling more anxious with every passing moment that was left in silence. Hans didn't move at all. He had been staring down at his boots for minutes without any beginnings of an explanation. Elsa couldn't take it any longer.

"Whenever you're ready," she said coolly.

He finally showed some sign of life, moving his head slightly upwards so that his eyes could meet hers.

"You were the firstborn child," he stated. "Since birth, your name has been placed on the crown. You were always trained to act like a queen, because one day, you would assume the throne."

Elsa blinked, losing an unspoken staring contest. "I'm sorry, what does this have to do with you stealing a boat?"

"If you'd be so kind, your highness," Hans continued, gaze never leaving hers. "But I don't think you could understand what I've been through."

Something began to surge through Elsa. What was it? It wasn't anger, wasn't shock. No, it was something that called her to answer his challenge.

"Are you saying that your life is in some way tougher than mine?" she asked, feeling her fingers grow cold.

"Yes," he said bluntly. His simpleness hit Elsa in a way that should have made her begin to rant about her life, about how trying to conceal and not feel, about how she lived in constant doubt and fear every moment of every day and night.

But she didn't. This challenge didn't rouse her in the same way it might have for Anna. She looked into those green, unblinking eyes, and saw something almost pleading.

"All right," she said. "Continue. Your troubled life won't be accepted unless you have proof."

He cocked his head, just slightly. A grin reached half his mouth, bringing an overgrown sideburn up with it. Hans leaned forward, elbows rested on knees and head held high.

"Imagine being Anna," he began. "The younger child who watched their older sibling go through life, always told that one day, they'd be a great ruler. Taught all the things a monarch should know to be fair and just. Now, imagine if there were twelve Elsas and only one little Anna. One little Anna who would never sit on the throne, who would wear the smaller, less decorated crown. Who'd always be less special than the older sibling. Doomed to being the spare."

Elsa had begun to panic just a little bit, his words contouring up a sad, helpless little Anna, but she controlled her imagination. A small pinch on her hand had helped. Anna wasn't in danger. Anna didn't think bad of her.

"I was Anna," Hans said, voice strong and echoing just slightly. "I was born thirteenth in the royal family of the Southern Isles. From the moment I arrived, everyone had already been there and done that, and my oldest brother was married off. It would have been more odd if I was celebrated.

"My mother was the queen, and still is. She was... busy. Very busy, all her life. It's all papers and meetings and signatures, and caring for yet another baby boy was not a priority. Besides, no one ever thought the number thirteen was a very lucky one. Nobody wanted the unlucky thirteen around for very long."

Elsa listened, prepared not to feel a thing for this wannabe murderer's sob story, but somehow feeling a twinge of empathy. He hadn't been the only one with a distant monarch as a parent.

"I was left in the care of my brothers for most of my childhood. Of course, I was nursed for long enough to walk and talk. And then I was the sport. Everyone pounces on easy prey. The thirteenth child, the mistake that made a perfect balance of twelve screwed up.

"And of course, they'd exploit me. Sell me out as some kind of court jester, until the only family member who really cared was my dad, and insisted that-" Hans stepped dead in his tracks, those green eyes dilating as if he was staring directly into the sun.

"Insisted what?" Elsa prompted, now more curious than ever.

"That... that... it's not relevant," he said hurriedly, making Elsa more curious than ever.

He took a very deep sigh, exhaling for what seemed like years. "I just need a ship. I need a ship so that I can sail away from here. Especially the Southern Isles. I can't ever go back there. Not after living with them for years, for spending all my life trapped in those cages of islands. I'll become king of somewhere new. A king that is trusted by his people and has ultimate power."

Hans' fist was clenched, and Elsa could hear the leather crack slightly. He didn't speak again, and she assumed he had finished the story, which raised a few more questions and successfully answered nothing.

"How did you get back here?" she asked.

"I escaped the ship," he answered.

"So why did it never dock in Westernland or the Southern Isles?"

"I couldn't say."

"Are you lying?"

"Withholding truth is more like it."

Elsa narrowed her eyes, squinting as if Hans' secrets might be spelled out across his face if she looked hard enough.

"You ask me to trust you and give you a boat, and yet you still withhold truth," she said. She'd heard enough to piece together and give to Anna. She couldn't stand the heat in the room anymore.

"You'll consider my ship though?" he asked as she rose from her seat.

She paused, finding herself in a situation that mirrored yesterday's. "No. However, thank you for a slight explanation of why you're here. The princess will love to hear it."

Before Elsa left the room, she turned once more to him, his eyebrows so far down that you could hardly see those green, unblinking eyes. His anger almost offset her last comment, but she spoke anyway.

"Your comparability to Anna doesn't work," she said, one hand on the door. "Only one of your many brothers will get the throne. You're not the only one who's destined to be the spare."

He growled, and Elsa swore she saw smoke in the room. The heat was making her hallucinate, apparently. "I told you, you'd never _understand._"

She didn't feed the dragon any more, and stepped into a wave of cool air in the hallway.

She thanked the guards, more confident than she was yesterday. Her bare hands hadn't done much more than add a thin layer of frost across her skin. His words hadn't bitten at her today, they were mostly biting at himself. His story was interesting, of course, but didn't change Elsa's mind about the boat. There were wonderful people who dealt with their problems in better ways than killing, stealing, and manipulating. Nothing he could say ever excused his actions.

As the sound of her footsteps resounded through the halls, Elsa decided she'd tell Hans' story to Anna, then leave his fate to her and Ingvalda. Surely Anna's idea of justice would taste sweeter than anything Elsa could think of. She'd also rather not pay any thought to him again.

Queen Elsa intended to never see Hans again.

It was an intention that, of course, was never achieved.

* * *

**Thanks to all who have already followed, reviewed, and/or favorited, it's great to know my little tale's peaked interests already!**

**I think the schedule is going to be a new chapter each Monday, might as well make the beginning of the week worth something. That work for everyone? Until next week!  
**


	3. Three

_Three_

Elsa was prepared to share Hans' story at dinner, but Anna made sure that no words interrupted her own. Nothing could stop the animated description of her day out in town, complete with a few reenactments that involved nearly tearing the tablecloth from under their plates. A small wine stain consisted of the battle scars of storytelling.

"Yeah, and so Kristoff turns to this guy and is totally prepared to knock him out, but I was like, 'You can't blame him. I mean, it's not like he knows he just accidentally shoved the princess of Arendelle into a cart of fruit,' and Kristoff was like-" Anna paused to draw her face in and look as buff as possible. "'Anyone who hurts you is my responsibility." Anna pulled her face back into the normal, delighted expression she always wore. "But the guy was gone by then and had also dropped his apples after tripping me, so who's the real winner here?"

"You ate apples off the ground?" Ingvalda asked, eyes reflecting horror as she stuck a fork in the meat on her plate.

Anna shrugged, twirling her utensil around in the food. "Well, yeah. We rubbed them off on our shirts first."

Ingvalda still looked like Anna had said 'manure' instead of 'apple', but only turned her nose up and sighed. "A princess shouldn't take risks like that, m'lady. The apple may have been dropped on purpose."

Anna glanced at Kristoff quickly, something akin to a mischievous smile threatening to break through. "Of course. Won't happen again."

The table was strangely crowded, even though it stretched far enough to host a banquet. Four of the middle seats were occupied; Kristoff and Elsa on one side, and Ingvalda and Anna on the other.

Elsa noticed that Kristoff still wasn't completely comfortable, always darting his attention up to the cold, disapproving eyes of Ingvalda and squirming in the outfit that was cleaner than his old clothes and passable enough as dinner dress. Anna said that he was used to wearing the same clothing for days at a time, and never sat down for a meal unless it was with his family. He shared a diet of carrots with his reindeer most of the time. The huge plate of stroganoff and glass full of wine seemed to intimidate the big mountain man, and he'd barely eaten half.

Anna's food was, of course, untouched, mostly due to her mouth already being occupied with words. Once she grew tired, she'd eventually vacuum the entire meal down, but the stories hadn't run dry yet. Anna was now demonstrating with her silverware how Kristoff and Sven had almost fallen into the fjord, much to the silent mountain man's discomfort. A thin red blush stretched across his face as Ingvalda's glare grew stronger with each word.

Elsa empathized with him; Ingvalda _was_ awfully intimidating. The older woman's meal was being eaten with perfect timing in perfect sized chunks without dropping any food on the tablecloth or her outfit. She sipped her wine as if she'd calculated exactly how much was enough. She was so perfect at her dinner etiquette that Elsa felt leagues behind in her practice as queen.

Elsa noticed Kristoff's habit of fidgeting with his thumbs when the glare became too intense. She knew that guilt gnawed away at him. After all, besides herself, no one knew that the princess and the mountain man had their own brand of romance blooming. To Ingvalda, he was simply a guest to the queen and princess.

Where Anna was impulsive and more than excited to share with the world about her love for him, Kristoff took things slower, always said to just roll along with life. And Anna had complied for a whole year already. Not that Elsa was surprised, after the result of rushing into her engagement with Hans.

The remembrance of the man's name made Elsa's stomach twist. She'd been eating all through Anna's thorough explanation of her day on the town, but now set her fork down. The appetite was gone.

"Are you finished with your meal?" Ingvalda asked when Anna paused for breath.

"Hm?" Elsa asked, realizing the former custodian of Arendelle was addressing her. "Oh, yes. I'm quite full, thank you."

"Huh?" Anna said, looking down at her plate of food that was quickly growing cold. "Oh, you're already done? Geez, we just started dinner."

Elsa caught Kristoff glancing at the large clock at the end of the hall which read half an hour since dinner began. Neither bothered to share the news.

"Hurry up, Anna dear," Ingvalda said. "Mustn't keep your sister waiting,"

Anna nodded, beginning to scarf down her food. Ingvalda looked like she wanted to intervene at the barbaric manner of eating, but Elsa saved that lecture from taking place.

"Have you been busy, Ingvalda?" she asked, handing her plate to a servant and thanking them.

Ingvalda turned away from Anna, happy to speak about herself for once. "Yes, my queen. Not nearly as busy as I was during my time as custodian, of course. But still rather busy. I've been managing most of your documents until you get into the rhythm of being monarch."

"Ah," Elsa said, staring down into her wineglass. She'd not counted on so much busywork once she became queen. Thankfully, a lot of that labor was lifted from her shoulders by the woman who was used to doing all of the work. With nothing to do now, Ingvalda felt the need to still help. She told Elsa there was no greater honor than helping the new queen of Arendelle with her chores.

"I thank you for your help," Elsa said, looking up briefly. Ingvalda's face grew something between smug and pleased, and she nodded gracefully.

"It's my pleasure, your majesty."

Elsa bit her lip, watching Anna stuff her face, and felt guilty for not yet speaking of Hans. But in Ingvalda's presence, she felt like she couldn't talk. Ingvalda was all about being proper and precise. Speaking to Hans in the cell a second time was definitely not the queenly thing to do.

She took a brave leap, saying, "Ingvalda, do you have much more to do?"

"Nothing I can't handle, your majesty."

"You may be excused from the table, then," Elsa said, feeling a pulse in her fingertips.

Ingvalda blinked, face now expressionless. "Are you sure, your majesty, because it's not the proper-"

"I said you are excused," Elsa said finitely. She couldn't bring herself to look up at the woman, but Ingvalda rose and pushed her chair in.

"Of course, my queen," she said, bowing slightly and leaving the room.

Anna had stopped in mid-chew, a bit of stroganoff hanging out of her mouth. The princess and her "friend" watched the former custodian leave the room, heels clicking as she made her way to the door. The heavy wood finally opened and closed with a thick thud. Anna turned to her sister, cocking her head with food dripping down her face.

She tried to speak, but Elsa held her hand up. "Anna, please. I'm not Ingvalda, but you still have to chew."

Anna chewed quickly and swallowed. "Why'd you make her leave?" Anna said, wiping her chin with the side of her hand. Now that Ingvalda was gone, Kristoff didn't hesitate to wipe away with his thumb what Anna didn't get.

"I... I went to go see the prisoner today," Elsa said, heartbeat pulsing in her ears.

Anna's eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped. Kristoff immediately turned to the queen, attention focused purely on her.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" Kristoff asked, concerned.

Elsa smiled, touched by the mountain man's attention. "I'm fine, thank you. He didn't hurt me."

"I said you didn't have to go back," Anna said, suddenly distressed. "I know that you were uncomfortable last-"

"No, no, it's fine," Elsa said, holding her hands up gently. "I felt confident. I was in control. I didn't get a story, but I did get a little bit of explanation."

"Really?" Anna asked, guilt replaced with excitement. "What is it? Why is he here?"

Elsa told them about how Hans said he escaped from the boat and that he wouldn't say why the ship hadn't docked. She spoke about how he felt he couldn't return to the Southern Isles because he couldn't live with his brothers, always feeling overshadowed. About how he tried to escape on a boat to sail away to somewhere new and become king there.

Anna listened intently, letting her sister tell the tale as she quietly ate her meal. Kristoff remained concerned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat; or maybe he was just uncomfortable in his clothing.

"And that's all the explanation I got," Elsa finished. "I said the ship was out of the question."

"Of course," Kristoff agreed. "You can't take this man's word for truth, especially when he confesses he's withholding it."

Elsa nodded. "I just don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked. "The answer's easy. Just contact the Southern Isles. Tell them to get down here and collect their trash."

_That's easy for you to say_, a surprising part of Elsa's mind chided. She was uncomfortable with the thought. Of course it was logical to contact the Southern Isles. He was an attempted murderer, the man who tried killing both her and her sister. She had no reason to feel any mercy. No reason to feel wary about the thought of sending him home.

So why did she hesitate?

Elsa closed her eyes, briefly lost in thought. Once her eyes closed, she saw another pair. Two orbs of green, burning like fire. Why would green remind her of fire? There was something strange about him and his eyes that could go from fierce to assured to panicked-

Panic.

That was it. The memory of the panic in his eyes when she suggested sending him back is what made her so hesitant. The helplessness and fear that was cast out before her as he pleaded with those eyes is why her stomach tied tight at the thought of the prince, likely to soon be former prince, bound and being led by his older brothers onto a ship. She saw him being loaded like cargo onto the boat and saw him look at her with those panicked green eyes. Panic and fear. The same panic that she'd seen in her own blue eyes. A different color, a different situation, a different life, and yet it was the same.

"Elsa?"

The queen snapped out of it, blinking as Anna came into focus. The younger princess had her head tilted, braids angled with her face. "You all right? We kinda lost you for a second."

"Yes... yes I'm fine," Elsa said, clearing her throat and trying to shake her terrifying revelation away.

"So... what's the verdict?" Anna asked, propping her face on her hands.

"Verdict?" Elsa repeated, lifting the glass of wine to her lips. She noticed her hands were shaking slightly. The glass fogged up upon her touch, but she tried to ignore it.

"About what to do with Hans?"

"Ah," she said, swishing the wine around in the glass and staring at it as if all the answers were in there. She knew Kristoff and Anna were staring at her, and tried not to feel the heat of their gazes.

She knew what they wanted to hear. They wanted her to curse the bastard, send him home because he deserved whatever they could dole out. If he wanted so badly to never return to the Southern Isles, that's where they should send him. Because he was a villain. A selfish, unwanted villain.

She'd been the villain before. She'd been a monster.

She knew what Anna and Kristoff wanted her to say. 'Send him home, because he's a villain, he's a...'

A monster.

_Don't be the monster they fear you are._

"I... I think we should wait."

"What?" Kristoff said, gentle face contorting with emotion. "But he tried _killing_-"

"Kristoff," Anna stopped him with a look. The man shut up, biting his lip, decidedly unhappy. Anna turned to her sister. "Why not ship him off now? I mean, word's gonna get out eventually. Only the people in the castle know, but someday the secret's going to leak that we've got the missing prince in our dungeon."

"I know, I know," Elsa said, setting the glass down for fear it might slip out of her hands. "But right now everyone thinks he's dead. And I'm still confused about his story. Something doesn't make sense. I need to figure out what happened to the ship. If he _did_ sabotage it, I want to know where it ended up. If he stays a few more days, then it'll all be worth it. I can't have him ruining other people's kingdoms or sinking ships, and even if his brothers _do_ ensure he doesn't, then it's my job to help Westernland serve justice to their delegate."

"It's not your job, you're not obligated to anything except get him outta here," Anna said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"If you'll excuse me, your majesty, but I agree with Anna," Kristoff added, tired of keeping his mouth shut. "I understand how you want to serve justice, but maybe it's time to worry about your own safety."

Elsa could feel her blood begin to chill. "I... I recognize how you guys feel. But I am the queen, and I say he stays."

An hour ago, Elsa had been prepared to send him away without so much as a parting glance, but now she was fighting for him to stay? What had happened? She stared into the reddish-purple of the wine, hoping for an explanation. Elsa had felt something akin to empathy for a terrible man, and that scared her to death.

She promised herself that she'd only visit a few more times. Get more of the story to eventually piece together an explanation. And when the time was right, when she felt nothing more for those panicked eyes, she'd alert the Southern Isles.

The plan didn't sound very solid to her, but she faked her confidence. "Once I find out what happened to the ship, I'll make him leave."

Neither Anna nor Kristoff sounded very solid in her decision, and exchanged a wary glance that Elsa knew meant she was going to be talked about by them later. She tried not to care, but couldn't help but feel immensely guilty for her decision.

"Well... all right," Anna said with a well-meaning shrug. "I guess you're the queen, after all."

"But you'll tell us if you need help," Kristoff suggested.

"Of course," Elsa said, rising from the table. The other two followed, and a servant took Kristoff and Anna's plates as the three walked to the door. "Thank you for understanding."

They obviously didn't, but it almost made Elsa feel better to pretend that they did.

* * *

For the third time in the past few days, Elsa found herself telling the guards that she wished to see the prisoner. She wondered if the look they exchanged shouldn't have bothered her, but it did anyway. Even though she was queen, she still felt sheepish for entering the room and closing the door behind herself.

"Is this Arendelle's form of torture? Keep sending the queen?" Hans said before Elsa turned to face him. "Because I must say I'm enjoying my punishment."

"I'm not attempting to torture you," Elsa said, turning to see him standing by the window. He was tugging his gloves on and flexing his fingers. "Though you'd probably deserve it."

"I thought you were telling Anna all of my secrets?" Hans asked, hands held together.

"I did. And that's Princess Anna, to you," Elsa said, gaze fixated on his hands.

"_Princess _Anna, of course," Hans corrected himself, but it was too sarcastic for Elsa's liking. "And she sent you back down with a message?"

"No," Elsa said hesitantly. "I'm here of my own accord."

This seemed to actually catch Hans by surprise. He stood still, hands still clasped together and an expression of wonder thrown onto his face. He stared at Elsa as if trying to understand what the punchline to the joke was.

Elsa looked at the floor, unable to stand his stare. "There's still too much you haven't told me. I want to know where the ship is."

Hans seemed to relax, a motive finally found. "Oh, I see." His hands unclasped and he held them behind his back, straightening his posture. "Well, I'm afraid you won't get much more out of me."

"What does that mean?"

Hans said nothing, but a smug smile crawled across his face that made Elsa irritated. He took a seat with a small sigh, claiming the cot as his own.

"Does it mean that you don't know where the ship is, or you won't tell me where it is?" Elsa tried.

Hans' smirk grew wider and Elsa felt her hands grow cold.

"I'm not afraid to use alternative methods to get the truth out."

"I don't doubt," Hans said. "Of course, you don't want to plunge your kingdom in another surprise winter. You may have power, but you don't have much control."

These words choked Elsa. They grabbed at her skin and pinched, and squeezed her throat so air was thinner than the very top of the north mountain. The ice around her hands creeped around so delicate patterns curled inside her fingerprints. She pulled her shaking hands up to look at the sparkling display.

_He's right_, her mind whispered. _You think that one taste of freedom has made you in control? You couldn't be more wrong. Being free from the gloves doesn't automatically make you less of a threat. In fact, everyone's in even more danger now that you're unchained. _Anna_ is in even more danger..._

Hans didn't have the decency to look away, watching her breathing become constricted and her eyes grow wide at the sight of the thin layer of ice on her hands. He held a gloved hand up, outstretched towards her, then drew it back so quickly that Elsa doubted whether he had moved at all.

"But of course, you won't need to use your powers anytime soon," Hans said. If Elsa didn't know better, she might have thought he was trying to calm her down. Of course, he must have feared for his own well being, stuck in a small room in shackles with the unstable ice queen.

"N-no," Elsa said, bending her fingers to make the frost crack ever so quietly. "No, not yet."

"Good," Hans said, voice warm and assuring. Even if he was acting to calm her down for his own purposes, it still made Elsa feel just a little better to hear that kind of tone.

It was the same kind of tone Anna used occasionally, to assure Elsa that she was all right, that it was all okay. That she wouldn't be hurt. Elsa remembered the assurance in Anna's smiles, in her hugs, in her unrequited love no matter how badly Elsa ruined something.

She closed her eyes and let the rare warmth seep into her, the feeling of love. Remembering Anna safe and assured gave her the power to draw the ice from her hands. She opened her eyes and looked to the small ball of ice floating above her hands. With a sigh, she dispelled it, causing the ice to leave nothing but a gentle cold breeze.

Hans was still sitting with wide eyes, having witnessed Elsa's display.

"That was... impressive," Hans said. "I thought you said you couldn't stop the winter?"

"How did you think I cleared up my kingdom?" Elsa asked, feeling better. "I found a solution when when Anna came back to me."

"You found a fix to your power?" Hans asked, leaning forward like this question was the most important thing he'd ever asked. "How?"

"Love," Elsa said simply. "I just need to find that place... the one that makes me warm and happy. It's hard to access sometimes, but whenever I remember Anna's smile and her pure heart..."

She stopped, realizing Hans was still watching her. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking so much."

"Oh, I don't mind. Your majesty," he threw in the last words hurriedly. Something made Elsa's lips tug up in the slightest way.

"We're not here to talk about me, though," she said. "I want to hear more about you, specifically about the ship. Where is it?"

Hans sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I can't say."

"Very well. I'll get it out eventually. Why don't you tell me something else until you're ready to share its location with me," Elsa said. She knocked on the door and asked a guard for the stool again.

When the seat was placed, Hans was still looking at the queen with a dumb expression. "Something... else?"

"Yes," Elsa said, settling her dress on the seat. "Tell me about your brothers. About what it was like growing up under twelve of them."

Hans' face darkened slightly, but a hint of curiosity couldn't be disguised. "That's a story that no one would want to hear. Tragedies are no fun."

"And yet I'm still sitting here and requesting one," Elsa said, folding her arms. "Justify what it was like being the unlucky thirteen."

The curiosity became a full fledged smirk, and Hans relaxed his muscles. His shoulders shook briefly as he laughed.

"Only because you asked, your majesty. The hell do I have to lose, anyway?"

He rolled his neck and cracked in knuckles in preparation, and Elsa sat patiently, eyes still unnaturally drawn to his gloves that had once been white before time and dirt had done their worst.

Hans sat up tall and finally began. "Being youngest of twelve had its ups and downs. Mostly downs. Three of them pretended I was invisible for two years..."

* * *

**I promise that the"last half of the chapter visiting Hans" mold will be broken. Things'll heat up (heh fire puns) soon.**

**My life's gonna get pretty busy soon with practice and shows (I'm in two productions right now, playing Queen of Hearts in one and a chorus role in another) and AP testing (I took my SAT on Saturday and my brain's totally fried). _But _I promise you guys that the schedule won't be thrown off.**

**__****HUGE ****thank you to everyone who's reading this and giving me some kind of affirmation (reviews, faves, follows). They warm my heart more than anything. Until next week!**


	4. Four

_Four_

Over the course of a few days, Elsa discovered that thirteen was the loneliest number. She'd never meant to really listen to his excuses, not after what she intended to be her last visit. But in hoping to wear him down and finally confess where the ship was, she found herself empathizing with more than one of his situations.

Her visits were rather... long. Longer than she always expected, at least. After three o'clock tea with Anna, Elsa would return to the cell holding a ragged, history-rich prince that most people thought had drowned. Anna reminded her every day they should be sending off a letter to the Southern Isles, and Elsa assured that today would be the day when he finally revealed where the ship was.

Which he never did. It was infuriating how he always dodged the question. It was even more infuriating how Elsa always fell for it when he threw a new story out instead. But, she reasoned with herself, he'd run out of stories eventually. And if he didn't, then she'd know more than enough about him to estimate how the ship had disappeared.

"Wait, which one got you a horse for your birthday?" Elsa asked, sitting on her newly accustomed stool.

"None of my brothers," Hans clarified. "My father got me the horse. It was Campbell and Charles who set him free in the middle of the night."

"And he still returned to you?" Elsa asked, a small smile growing unconsciously.

Hans shrugged, his own smile fully intentional. "Yeah. Next morning, I see Citron cantering across the hill. Had himself a nice midnight run, but the looks on my brothers' faces were priceless."

"They weren't even punished for letting your horse loose?"

The smile fell. "Only slightly. Shoveling my stall for one day. Which to the queen, was a pretty harsh punishment to her sons. And, of course, I never heard the end of it from them."

The sunlight fell through the window and splattered across the floor and walls, letting the summer heat soak just a little longer before night fell and cooled the air. Hans was propped up against the wall, sitting on the cot with his legs extended, one knee bent to keep his balance, and arms loosely crossed. If he was bothered by the heat, he didn't show it.

Elsa, however, wore a dress with only ribbons for sleeves and a cut that had just one layer to let her legs breathe. She tried rubbing her icy hands over her arms, which cooled them instantly, but she could still feel a bead or two of sweat trickle down her forehead.

"I've never been riding before," Elsa confessed. "I've ridden a horse, once or twice, but never truly went out and just... rode."

"Really? Well as future queen, I'm sure you were busy studying most of your time," Hans said, gloves still on. Elsa wondered how his hands could stand the heat.

"Yeah," she said, looking down at her own, bare hands. She supposed she only noticed the gloves because they were such a big part of her daily life. She had to wear them when touching the numerous books she had studied. Though there was no real danger in studying law or history, if she felt too passionate about a story, then she'd accidentally freeze the pages. It had happened on enough occasions for her to never touch a book without her gloves again. "Lots and lots of alone time, that's for sure."

"Riding horseback, I was alone most of the time," Hans said. "I never wanted my brothers to come along, and my father always had an excuse. The only reason he'd never come is because he knew I'd race him and win."

"You liked your father?" Elsa asked, crossing one leg over the other and wondering at how easy it was to talk to Hans. Strange how she could never speak up when conversing with Ingvalda, someone she'd known at least three years, but with Hans, it was as if the impossibly tall barriers were just ignored. She shivered a little, confused and a little angry with herself.

"My father is one of the only people I've ever felt close to," Hans said, abandoning his position and swiveling his legs so his feet rested on the floor. He looked out the window, staring into the golden sunshine of dusk. "He never made me feel like I was the unlucky thirteenth. I wasn't a number to him like I was with the queen. I was his son."

Elsa fidgeted with her hands, diverting her attention. She felt like looking at him was somehow invading privacy. Hans looking out into the sunlight and talking about his dad seemed somehow... intimate, and she felt like she wasn't welcome to share the moment.

He looked away from the window, the golden light fleeting from his face. Elsa felt her fists unclench, something she wasn't aware had been tensed. Something about the light on his face had made her slightly short of breath.

He began to speak again; "Citron was my 18th birthday's gift, but on my 16th, he got me my own boat. Taught me a little bit about sailing. Nothing special of course, just how to read the stars as well as a map, how to tell when a sunrise predicted good sailing, the care and maintenance of a vessel."

"Didn't take very good care of the French ship, did you?" Elsa said quietly.

"What?" Hans asked, nostalgic smile wiped away.

"Nothing," Elsa said quickly.

"No, you said something," Hans said, eyes narrowing.

"Well, if you must know, I was trying to refer back to the ship that you so carelessly lost," Elsa said, looking pointedly at him.

He rolled his eyes and sank back against the wall. "That again? I thought maybe you'd forgotten."

"The only reason why you're still here and not on a ship back to the Southern Isles is because the fate of the ship remains unsolved," Elsa said, realizing too late that she'd revealed a motive she hadn't intended to share.

Hans caught it, green eyes sparkling with interest. "Is that so? Well, then I shall never have to go back to that dreadful place, since I won't speak."

"I'll get the story eventually," Elsa said, holding her head high, faking confidence until she felt it.

"You wouldn't really put me back on a ship to the Isles," Hans said with a small chuckle that could have been humorous or not.

"I could write them a letter any time," Elsa said, simultaneously reminded of Anna's not-so-subtle suggestions to just get the man out of their kingdom.

"Oh, but you wouldn't," Hans said, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied smirk. "You know all about my brothers. How they treated me, what it was like growing up. You wouldn't send a man back to torture like that."

"A man like you deserves torture far worse than that," Elsa shot back, but caught a glimpse of what she felt the other day. The vision of his brothers hauling him back on the boat in chains. Those sad, pleading green eyes...

"Besides," Hans broke the vision with a word. "You are too fond of my stories to let me leave."

Elsa sat in silence a moment before putting her hands on her hips. "I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"No. I'm only waiting to hear the story of the boat."

"Maybe, but you're interested in the other stories just the same."

"I am _not_!"

"You were leaning forward on the stool!" Hans gestured to her posture, which was now still leaning forward just a bit. Elsa was quick to slump her back against the wall and slouch, crossing her arms.

"You'll tell the story eventually," Elsa mumbled, mostly to herself. She felt something that was like anger, but was gentler. Irritation. Hans was the smiling embodiment of irritation. Because just when Elsa didn't want to feel for him, she couldn't help but laugh or empathize or even feel slightly angry. She was irritated at her inability to not be an effective interrogator.

On another occasion, three days later, Elsa's interest was especially perked. He began to speak about the gloves that her eyes were always strangely drawn to.

"My mother had them made," he said quietly, as if it was a secret. "Whenever I outgrew a pair or burn- well... ruined them, she'd always have another fitted pair handy. Said it was the right thing to do, wear the gloves."

Elsa felt too at home with the words. It was as if she was telling the story herself. How many times had she accidentally shattered her gloves when she attempted to chip the ice away from her hands? How many times had her father said, "Now, be more careful with this pair. Conceal it, don't feel it. Don't let it show." Her hands grew colder at the very thought of her father's calm voice, but frightened eyes.

It wasn't his fault he was so scared. He didn't know how to handle her powers. None of them did. But her mother and father did what they thought best, even if Elsa realized all this time that Anna would have loved her no matter what. _They did it to keep her safe, don't be so selfish_.

"Why... why did she want you to wear gloves?" Elsa asked, shaking her head lightly in hopes of deterring the poisonous voice in her mind.

"I, uh... I guess she had a thing with dirt..." Hans said strangely. Maybe on another day, Elsa would have caught his shifting eyes that looked anywhere but at her, the way he wrung his hands together softly. She might have caught that the liar was lying exceptionally badly, having been caught off guard. But on this topic, Elsa was too preoccupied with her own hands and personal memories of gloves.

"But the gloves have been a habit ever since," Hans continued after clearing his throat. "They don't really bother me in the summer. They're just kind of like a second skin. A security blanket, if you will."

"Yeah," Elsa chuckled a little. "A security blanket."

"You'd know, of course," Hans said lightly, surely aware that he was treading into deep, dark waters.

"Yeah," Elsa said again, but didn't chuckle. "The habit was hard to break for the first few weeks, but I like the gloves off. I feel... free. So long as I'm in control, of course. But it would be easier for you, since you don't have ice powers to hide."

Hans laughed, almost forced and uncomfortable. "No ice here."

On and on the days went, a week easily passing since Hans was caught trying to steal the ship. On the twelfth day, he spoke of the boat, but not in the way she thought he would.

"... but of course, Jørgen would always complain that _my_ boat was better than his. Being the seventh, he always thought he was something pretty special. Complained that our father hadn't gotten him a boat for his sixteenth birthday, that he had to acquire his ship in other ways." Hans rolled his eyes, something he did a lot when speaking of his brothers.

Elsa felt her lips tug up involuntarily. It seemed too much work to pull them down again.

"He hardly did any work. All he had to do was bat his eyelashes and ask for a boat, and the queen responded by asking whether it should fit a hundred or thousand."

"Which one did he get?" Elsa asked, full well knowing the answer.

"What do you think?" Hans responded with a scoff. "He would've been insulted with anything less than a thousand. And yet, when he was tasked with coming to Arendelle, he used Francis' boat because it had better-"

Hans suddenly stopped, green eyes shining with all the secrets he had yet to spill.

"Wait, Jørgen has been to Arendelle?" Elsa asked, her smile falling as quickly as the tension in the room had risen.

"He..." Hans tried to begin, but gave up and let out a long sigh. "No, he's never been to Arendelle."

"But you just said-"

"Forget what I said," Hans ordered coldly.

Elsa had almost forgotten who Hans was. Why she hated him so much. _That_ she hated him so much. She'd grown much too comfortable just chatting the hours away with him, telling herself she was trying to get to the story of the ship. Obviously, these talks had clouded her judgement.

"I see," she said, matching- if not passing- the icy tone.

It was strange. Cold words were exactly what should have been appropriate for two people in their positions, but it seemed too foreign to be natural. Even Hans must have noticed, because his rock hard mask crumbled slightly.

"Elsa, I-"

"_Queen_ Elsa," she corrected instantly. "I don't know how you acquired the foolish idea that you could address me so casually."

She didn't look at him. She couldn't. And she didn't know why. After all, she was the queen. Why should she feel guilty after snapping at him?

"Of course, your majesty," came his response eventually. It sounded too formal, too forced, but Elsa would never admit it.

She left on those tense terms that reverted back to square one. It bothered her that she thought about it during dinner, thought about it while signing a few documents under Ingvalda's request, and still thinking while lying in bed trying desperately to fall asleep.

Elsa stared out her window, thinking back to the night when her life changed, over half a lifetime ago._ The sky's awake, so I'm awake, so we have to play!_

There were no lights in the sky now. Not so far into summer. In a few months, the skies would be lit with pastel purples and glowing greens and the softest, most gentlest blues. She missed the northern lights. Missed the warmth they made her feel amidst the chill of winter, the chill of herself.

Not foreseeing sleep anytime soon, Elsa pulled the covers back and wandered to her balcony. Lightly, she unlatched the lock and stepped into the warm summer night.

Light pink nightgown dragging just slightly across the ground, Elsa walked to the edge and leaned on the railing. It wasn't quite the view that she'd had from her castle on the north mountain, but it was still beautiful. She could see to her left a portion of the village and the fjord, lit up by a few lanterns and candles of the never-quite-asleep townsfolk. To her right was a view of the wall of earth that flew upwards for what seemed like forever. She'd often wondered what lay beyond the wall of earth, beyond the walls of Arendelle, but had never actually cared enough to escape.

_Maybe I should escape now_, a daring thought emerged. But no, she'd tried escaping before. And no matter how much fun it had been for a brief moment, reality would always come tear her castle of ice apart.

Her conversation with Hans repeated in her mind, about how she'd never really gone out riding. Something in her heart ached to go ride into the distance and just explore. But not a horse. She'd ride the wind. Use her ice to propel herself forward until she was locked in a dance with the air, flying as free as a bird without anyone to hurt or any duty to fulfill.

She sighed, not sure if it was out of longing or out of pity that it would only ever be a dream. Likely both. She stayed like that a while, leaning on the rail and watching the waterfall pour down. She wondered about riding and flying and about the northern lights and about why she always stared at Hans' gloves until she finally grew tired and climbed into bed with the color green stuck in her head.

The next day was different, however. Everything proceeded normally, with documents to be overlooked, meals to be eaten, and a bouncy sister to entertain. It all changed, however, when they finally discovered the fate of the French delegate's boat.

Elsa didn't miss the irony of it being the thirteenth day since Prince Hans was thrown into Arendelle's prison that the survivors washed ashore. She thought about that unlucky number while nearly dropping her teacup.

Kai had come in, interrupting three o'clock tea, to breathlessly give the news; ten or so men had come into town, demanding to see the queen. They were rugged and thin and just as scraggly as any other nomad, but a few of their official badges proved them to be what was left of the Westernland ship's crew.

Anna and Elsa immediately abandoned their tea and sandwiches, running to the parlor where the men where being taken care of. Elsa's heart beat fast, a combination of running and the adrenaline of finally figuring out the fate of the ship. So Hans wasn't keeping the boat and its passengers for ransom. That theory could be checked off the list.

As she breathlessly arrived in the parlor, she counted all ten men, who looked very sunburned and not very happy. Anna got to work immediately, asking if everyone was all right and if she could do anything, but there were already maids tending to the worst of them.

Heart finally slowing to a slightly normal pulse, Elsa sat down on an empty seat, Anna standing beside her.

"What happened to your ship?" Elsa asked the French delegate, one of the only men to survive the year.

"Oh, it was horrible," the man said, face sunburned redder than the scarlet chair he sat in. "One moment, it's smooth sailing, and the next, the ship is in flames!"

"Flames?" Anna asked.

"_Oui_. The ship caught fire, and was sunk within an hour," the delegate said, shaking his head. "It took days to reach land, and we've been wandering a year to arrive back. We had no map and had to follow the faulty direction of peasants. Only the ten you see survived the sinking and the journey."

Elsa's head spun. So the ship had caught fire. That's why it never docked in Westernland or the Southern Isles. But how...?

"But how did Prince Hans survive?" Anna asked, voicing the question Elsa wanted so badly to ask.

"Prince Hans?" one man repeated, his voice something between a choke and a laugh. "There's no way he could have. The fire started from the prison area. I'm afraid he didn't have a prayer."

Anna's eyebrows furrowed, taken completely to shock. "Then how come he-?"

"Anna," Elsa mumbled, nudging her sister slightly.

The redhead said no more, but looked at her sister funny, in a kind-of-panicked-but mostly-really-really-really-confused sort of way. Elsa pursed her lips, hoping her sister received the intention to not alert them of Hans' survival, much less his presence in the kingdom.

Luckily, Anna seemed to understand. She didn't look very happy about it, though.

Anna cleared her throat. "I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Bah, don't be," one of the saltier men said, a permanent scowl etched into his face. "Rest in peace, ya' bastard. If you ask me, the man started the fire himself."

It was as if Elsa suddenly couldn't breathe. _Started the fire himself_. The words hadn't intended to mean much, but they suddenly meant everything. Hans told Elsa he had escaped. He'd never mentioned a fire. A boat fire is something usually worth mentioning.

_Started the fire himself._ He'd have no access to a lamp, to matches. He had nothing but himself. His hands, always covered. The gloves _of course the gloves_. The room that was always hot when she entered. The blazing red hair that seemed almost too red to be natural. The reason that green always burned, always reminded her of flames.

_Started the fire himself._

Elsa stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her own dress. Everyone turned to her, disrupting all conversation and losing the element of subtlety. Anna jumped forward to help her sister.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked, eyes only for her sister. "What's wrong?"

"I...I..." Elsa couldn't speak, couldn't think. He _couldn't _be.

Anna's concerned blue eyes beat down at her and Elsa couldn't take it. There was too much happening. Her mind was spinning. She had to talk to him right now.

"Excuse me," Elsa muttered, avoiding Anna's gaze guiltily. She knew if she looked at Anna, she'd feel even worse than before. But she couldn't tell Anna right now. There was too much to explain, too much that Anna could try to understand but would never be able to empathize with.

For now, Elsa was hurrying to the prison chambers, a beeline made for Hans of the Southern Isles. There was too much happening at once, everything was spinning out of control, and yet Elsa felt strangely... happy? It was something akin to happiness, where her heart leaped in her throat and something sadistic compelled her to smile. Was it possible that she might not be the only magician? Oh yes, she smiled because she knew Hans' secret.

The gloves were off now.

* * *

**And everything begins to come together. Next week we get to hear the douchebag talk a lot, but that's what everyone's here for, right? ;)**


	5. Five

_Five_

The Queen of Arendelle didn't even have to explain to the guards that she wanted to see the prisoner alone. They just opened the door as she approached.

The door had scarcely closed when Elsa demanded, "Take off your gloves."

Hans was sitting on his cot, head down as if he was taking a nap. But at Elsa's presence, his head rose. The cluster of red hair and freckles contorted in confusion.

"What?"

Elsa, who was breathless and definitely feeling ice curl at her fingertips and palms, stared unwaveringly. "Take off your gloves."

He didn't seem panicked or secretive, like the severity of her words didn't mean much. He rose from the cot, arms still crossed. He had his coat off, a light blue shirt dressing his top half, torn and dirt-covered and sweat-stained. And of course, the gloves were still firmly on his hands.

"You're visiting earlier than normal," Hans observed. "I'm afraid we parted on terms yesterday that-"

"Take. Off. Your gloves," Elsa interrupted, voice strong as ever. She was vaguely aware that she was shaking.

Hans was for the first time, decidedly disturbed. "Why?"

"Because a handful of Westernland men including the French delegate just showed up in Arendelle, tired and starving," Elsa began.

It was like a blow to the chest, and Hans stumbled back slightly in the way that Elsa had minutes ago. His mouth fell open, just a bit, like he'd lost control of his face in the shock. He had to hold onto the wall to keep his balance.

"They told me what happened to their ship," Elsa said, voice growing quieter. "They said it burst into flames."

"Did they?" Hans asked, short of breath like he'd swam across the fjord and back.

"In fact, the fire started from the prison," Elsa continued, the shaking in her hands now too prominent to ignore. She held her arms crossed over her chest in attempt to not let her emotions overtake her. "The men said there was no way you could have survived."

Hans said nothing. He stood like a statue, staring at the wall with a glassy look in his eyes.

"Of course, you said that you escaped the ship. And what better way to leave than by going out with a bang?" she asked. "You set the boat on fire to make it seem like you were dead. You sacrificed almost an entire crew, all for a disappearing act."

"I couldn't go back," Hans mumbled. "I couldn't..."

"So you set a _ship_ on fire?" Elsa accused, voice rising. "You doomed them to burn or drown? You... you..."

This wasn't about Hans anymore. All Elsa could see was the scroll pronouncing the king and queen of Arendelle lost at sea. All it took was one storm for waves to claim the lives of so many good people. And this _idiot_ probably thought his escape was so daring, so _brave_.

"Listen, I can explain-"

"Take off your gloves," Elsa said, voice growing menacing. Her eyes turned sharp, the ice around her hands threatening to spiral out of control. "How could someone light a fire with no matches, no access to lanterns?"

Hans finally grew as panicked as he should have been. His green eyes were more pupil than color, and Elsa noticed his breathing becoming heavier.

"You... you don't know that."

"Your mother was insistent about the gloves, wasn't she?" Elsa said. "Conceal, don't feel, isn't that right? It would take a magician to know one."

Hans shook his head slowly, like he couldn't believe what was happening. He stumbled backwards again, running into the cot and immediately sinking down to sit.

"How many people know?" he mumbled.

"Only me," Elsa said, feeling her pulse return to something almost normal.

Hans said nothing, but stared at his gloves. They were as dirty as his white coat stuffed in the corner of the cell, most of their former charm lost. With a shaking hand, he brought his fingers down and pulled on the white fabric, faltering slightly before finally revealing a soft, peach hand.

He had a straight face as his hand rose, palm facing the ceiling. Before displaying his secret, those green eyes darted to Elsa, who felt her heart leap into her throat. She convinced herself it was out of sheer nerves, the anticipation of what was about to happen.

And then he let it go.

A small flame, scarcely a foot in height, flared into existence, elicited from the palm of his hand. Elsa was speechless as she watched the reds and golds curl through the air, always in motion as Hans stared at her, watching desperately for a reaction. He looked so vulnerable, which was saying something for someone who was spouting fire. Something in his eyes told her that there was nothing else that could have laid him more bare than this.

"I... I almost couldn't believe it," Elsa said so quietly, it might have been a whisper. The flame burned bright, being consistently held like a candle in his palm. "I thought maybe I was going crazy. That I had jumped to conclusions."

Hans looked from Elsa to his flames, staring deep into their dancing ribbons with a look classified somewhere between hate and fear.

"How?" Elsa asked softly.

He looked up again, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I... I just..." Elsa had a hard time putting all her thoughts into words. "I never knew people like me existed."

"Not quite as special as you thought, huh?" he said, voice dark.

"You've had this your whole life?"

"You like stories, right?" Hans asked, closing his palm and extinguishing the flame. It went out with a slight sizzle and a skyward puff of smoke. "Settle down, this one's awfully long."

Elsa's heart pounded as she sat on the stool that now rested permanently in the room. Everything she associated with her powers and with Hans was changing. Even now, as she looked at Hans, it was as if seeing some other person. Not the Hans that had charmed Anna, not the Hans that had tried to kill them, not the Hans who told stories while shackled in prison.

No, this Hans had no smiles. Nothing charming, nothing prideful, nothing even in the slight definition of happy. He couldn't have looked more solemn if he was at his own funeral. He rested his back against the wall again, busy shoving the glove back in place. Elsa almost told him to keep it off, but didn't want to argue. She wanted to hear his story as soon as possible, and sat quietly with her own hands fidgeting.

After securing the glove and staring a moment, Hans took a deep sigh and brought his face into his palms. He sat like that for far too long, only the rise and fall of his back showing any sign of life.

Finally, he lowered the gloves, running them down his face like he was shedding skin. He turned to face her, those eyes that were panicked in her imagination and ever-changing in real life now void and darker than she'd seen.

"You'd know better than anyone what it's like to be born with a curse," he began. "You've had ice as long as you can remember?"

Elsa nodded.

"And from what I've heard, that was nothing easy to deal with. But ice can be beautiful. It can be playful and incredible and awe-inspiring. Fire, on the other hand..." he trailed off, his focus falling from her face to the gloved hands, which were now tightly clasped together. "Fire is nothing but destruction. Fire burns, consumes all. Ice can melt eventually, but what fire burns away can never be saved."

He paused again, eyebrows sliding together and jaw growing taut. He clenched his teeth and tightened the glove with a crack of the leather.

"It's a _curse_," he growled. "It's a terrible, wicked curse. I'd give anything to not always needing the gloves, always being afreak."

"I'm sure fire can be-" Elsa began, but Hans' head shot up, now a minefield that had just been stepped on wrong.

"You have _no_ idea what it's like," he snapped. "You were never exploited by your family. Never cast out for the amusement of everyone. Used as another toy for your brothers to break."

Elsa said nothing, not knowing how to respond. Part of her wanted to complain that of course she understood, she'd been trying to balance a sibling and powers for years. But another side felt like this was a different kind of story. This was not a story of sisters who loved each other despite feeling like the loneliest people in the world.

Hans spoke again, gloved hands still balled into fists. "Born thirteenth of Queen Caroll meant I wasn't anything special. But when I began setting things on fire, accidentally burning my nurses and filling the nursery with char and smoke, I proved to demand attention. Unlucky thirteenth indeed. My mother thought I was the devil, wanted me thrown out immediately, but my father saved me. Assured her that this child was a sign, a gift. For God knows what, of course, but it saved me all the same." He chuckled humorlessly. "It would have been better for everyone if he hadn't."

His fists unclenched and he stretched his fingers, refitting the glove. The burning gaze he had simmered down as he continued.

"A few of my oldest brothers were already adults when I grew up. Each of them were assured of their place in the world. They were princes of the Southern Isles, and they were destined to be part of something bigger. So they took every chance they got to prove to me I wasn't.

"It wasn't so bad until I was eight, I suppose. I'd been playing with fire little by little. It was nothing too bad until I burned down a whole wing of the castle. It was an accident, but apologizing doesn't make walls raise. You can't un-burn a building."

His eyes were always darting around, shifting like he was still that eight year old, staring at the charred remains of a hall and trying in vain to come up with an excuse for the damage.

"I received a very stern lecture from the queen," he said. "That's when the gloves were made. I was deemed a danger to her society, and wouldn't make a fool of this family. I wouldn't soil our nation's name. And I wouldn't ruin any of their damn futures.

"My brothers tore me apart because of the burning incident. They scolded and lectured me to no end, with no mercy. And they said if I hurt them, they'd tell the queen I was threatening to burn them. Being as young as I was, I took their threats seriously. And Ididn't want to hurt them, not at first. But... then the gloves went on."

Elsa had been watching his gloves the whole time, finding them incredibly interesting. His hands were restless. They gestured with every sentence and had an entire personality all to their own. He fidgeted and grasped and crossed his finger, did anything to keep from being idle. As the topic of conversation turned to the gloves, he squeezed them into fists again.

"When I was commanded to start wearing the gloves, I rebelled. They were too itchy and confining and unnatural. So I'd leave them off every chance I got."

He stopped talking, voice trailing off near the end. He was silent, but looked as though there was something else he tried to get off his tongue. "Then... then the teasing began."

Elsa could see he had dragged her into the dark recesses of his memories by the haunted look on his face. She wondered if she had that expression whenever previous horrors surfaced.

"They began pushing me around more, using the gloves to control me. If they even saw a hint of bare hand, they'd come and speak of how I was the unlucky thirteenth, that I wasn't even supposed to be born. I was a mistake, after all; unplanned, unexpected, and unwanted. My mother didn't love me, they claimed, and that's why I was cursed and a freak of nature and a creature straight out of hell. And so I made sure the gloves stayed on, and I've rarely taken them off since."

The mid-day brightness was far too cheerful for such a subject. Birds sang outside the stone walls, but Hans' face didn't absorb even one ounce of the summertime happiness. His face remained cold as stone.

"The hate actually helped, in a way. All that loathing and disgust and shame my brothers fed to me couldn't be directed back at them. After all, I still thought I loved them. Thought they loved me. That's what families do, love each other. So I directed my hate at the fire."

His face twisted, looking at the gloves with repulsion. "I _hated_ it. I still do. I directed every fiber of loathing and aimed it at the fire, successfully getting it to be concealed and controlled."

"But that's not how it works," Elsa interrupted. "Fear only makes it worse."

"Fear, maybe, but hate is much stronger," Hans explained. "I didn't fear the flames. I knew exactly what they were capable of. I'd sit by myself and ask why I couldn't just be normal. Why couldn't I have hands that could go outside and get dirty and splash around and play games without sending everything up in smoke? With the gloves and my hatred, the fire died down. I've reached the point where I am so in control, I almost don't need the gloves."

Elsa looked down at her own hands, ungloved. They were folded in her lap now, politely set while she listened. Her head still reeled, replaying Hans' fire over and over again, as if when she stopped playing it, the memory would only be a strange dream.

"I grew to hate magic. It was a terrible force, I was sure. If my brothers called me a monster, then every magician must also be one. Monsters that have the power to hurt and destroy like I do."

He glanced up, green meeting blue. Elsa didn't know how long the stare lasted, but she cleared her throat and looked down after a spell.

"So you planned to expose me," Elsa said. "You somehow caught word of magic in Arendelle and came to kill the snow queen."

"Actually," Hans corrected. "I didn't know anything of your powers. Not until the night of my engagement to An-" he stopped, then hesitantly rephrased, "...your coronation."

At the memory of the brief engagement, Elsa felt something bubble inside. Like it was burning away the pity and grief of Hans' childhood, burning away all excuses since he'd taken advantage of her sister. And no amount of sob stories could ever change that.

"I had come to Arendelle solely to wear your crown upon my head," he returned to his story. "I only wanted a kingdom of my own. The Southern Isles are crowded, after all, and finding my own place sounded like the perfect thing to do. I wanted to prove to them, to myself, that I was worthy. I could conquer a kingdom and rule it too."

He laughed again briefly, focusing on the floor. "My original plan was less... murderous, really. I'd sail in and charm the lovely queen, then marry her and become king."

"Marry _me_?"

Hans shrugged. "Like I said, it was my original plan. Then I ran into your sister, quite literally, and learned that no one was getting anywhere with the private, hard to reach, soon-to-be queen. But it really wasn't until your powers were revealed that things became darker.

"Something awoke in me that brought me back ten years. Back to telling myself all magic was evil, and this kind of magician was nothing but trouble. So I was hell-bent on finding you again. Magic had to be contained, snuffed out. But you couldn't beat a queen into submission without a public outcry. So it was no big deal, I'd be the hero, snuff both magic and life. I'd never gone that far before, but first time for everything, right?"

His gaze grew distant, glassy eyes telling a story of their own. "But it failed," he sighed. "I was punched off a boat by a dead girl, and then thrown in prison on another ship by your guards. The prison of the ship that I had come on, nonetheless. What a humiliation."

He stopped, and Elsa waited for more, but it never came.

"Is that all?" she asked.

He remained silent, eyes still glassy.

"Why did you burn the boat?" Elsa asked, remembering the only question that she had wanted an answer to. "You didn't have to-"

"I _panicked_," he blurted. "I stood in that cage and all the air on the open sea wasn't enough to help me breathe. My throat was closed and my heart threatened to rip my chest open, it beat so hard. I couldn't go back to Queen Caroll, to my brothers. Icouldn't. Especially after seeing your sister."

"My sister?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes; dear Anna who saved the day with her act of true love. She was willing to sacrifice her _life_ for , who had closed her off all your life and then struck with ice. She should've saved her own skin. But no... she chose you."

Elsa's throat threatened to run dry as he spoke of Anna, but his words ended up being strangely... relaxing. Anna _had_ chosen Elsa, even when she should have saved herself. _Anna loves me. Anna's safe_.

"And that's what love really is," Hans said, shaking his head slowly. "Not brothers assuring that their teasing and controlling is for the best. Not a queen who I can hardly call my mother without a bad taste on my tongue. Not people who keep you on a chain because you share blood, and who shame you for being born with a curse. That's not love, and that shouldn't be family. I couldn't go back.

"So I... I panicked. I ripped the gloves off and ignited the wood. The ship was up in flames in no time. I grabbed a rowboat before most people even realized disaster had struck, I was onshore just hours later and free to go where I pleased."

"Why haven't you broken out of here, then?" Elsa asked hesitantly. She didn't want to put ideas in his head, but was too curious to hold back.

He stared at the window with a scowl, the outside world and freedom just out of reach. "What, do you take me for a fool? Of course I could burn my way out of here. I could be free any time I'd like. But in case you haven't realized, those brothers I'd never like to see again don't know I'm alive. It's been a year since my 'death', and I'd like to keep it that way. No doubt if I escaped, you or your sister would immediately notify them."

"But why Arendelle?" Elsa asked. "Of all places?"

"I didn't mean to," he growled. "It just so happened that after so many months of living off the earth and what I could steal from villages, I'd reached a turning point. I had stumbled straight into Arendelle, and should have just turned back to another fork in the road. I'd probably still be free had it not been for something that told me to go to sea.

"I missed my ship back home, and got the idea to steal a ship and sail somewhere completely new. Uncharted and waiting to be lead. After all, I'm still born of royal blood. I'd find myself a bunch of people and call myself their king. The plan still has kinks to work out, of course, but it's better than any sort of life back home or rotting in this cell."

"I don't believe that's how monarchies work," Elsa said pointedly. "And any place to have you as their ruler would be very unfortunate indeed."

"Listen, you may have your arguments against me," Hans said with furrowed brows, pointing a gloved finger at her threateningly. "But you can't say I wouldn't be a good leader. Yes, I lead your sister on. It was all an act to rise to power, but I kept this kingdom running. I took good care of Arendelle while you two took a holiday. I kept your people warm when you cast them into unending winter, feeding and clothing them when that weasel duke only complained about limited trade supplies."

Elsa grew colder as the room grew warmer. The cutting reminder that her freedom had been at other people's cost always twisted her stomach.

"I would care for my people. I'll sail somewhere that my name's unheard of," Hans said, growing less defensive and more explanatory. He waved his hand in front of him like he was gesturing to the endless possibilities. "No brothers, no magic powers, nothing but King Hans of somewhere new."

His hand fell and he looked to the queen again. "So I ask you, again. Please. Let me have my own ship."

Elsa stared back, biting her inner lip. "No."

His face couldn't have fallen further. "What?"

"As sad as your story is, I can't just dismiss your crimes," she explained, looking anywhere but him.

"I promise I'll be different! I'm changed!" he pleaded, but Elsa didn't buy a second of it.

She rose from the stool, only now daring to look down at him. "You'll remain here," she said. "Your sentence still stands."

"What sentence?" he scoffed.

"The one where you're our prisoner until I send a letter to the Southern Isles," Elsa bit back.

He clamped his mouth shut immediately, eyes full of fear that Elsa now knew was justified. "You... you can't."

"I can," she said. "But I won't."

The fear remained, but something more was spread across his face. Something like... curiosity.

"I will not alert the Southern Isles of your current location, let alone that you're alive," Elsa continued. "Your imprisonment will remain a secret for now, until I can find a use for you."

He still stared at her as if analyzing her face for secrets. "Fine," he finally said. "I begrudgingly accept your decline for a ship. I'll still wait, though. Someday, I'll be king."

"Better start counting the days," she said, leaving the room.

For reasons unknown, she was hesitant. She wanted to hear him continue to speak. To tell her everything about living with powers, about burning through glove after glove and discuss how different it was from ice. But she'd kept Anna and the survivors waiting far too long, and she shouldn't have been spending so much time on the prisoner anyway.

She at least turned around before leaving to give him one last look. He was the same dirt-smothered man, but something had changed. His expression was less harsh now. Softer. More vulnerable. She knew his secrets now, and secrets were powerful things; she would know.

Elsa left the cell, head still swirling with information and stomach tight with the knowledge that she wasn't the only magician. Even if the only other one she'd met was the exact opposite of her. But the more she thought of it, the less they seemed that different after all.

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock-knock knock._

The thud of knuckles colliding with a door sounded all too familiar too Elsa, but felt foreign to her hands. She was usually the one on the receiving end, though she never gave much response.

Even though it was well past the hour when decent people slept, Anna still swung the door open so quickly, it might have ripped from its hinges. Her eyelids were still half-closed, like she'd just woken up, but they somehow still managed to be wide with surprise.

"Elsa?" the princess asked somewhat groggily. She cleared her throat and blinked a few times, as if to make sure this wasn't a crazy dream. "What're youdoin' here?"

Elsa bit her lip, fixing her gaze on her hands as they fidgeted. They were gloved, as they always were during the night. Maybe she had continued to wear them to bed out of habit, but she suspected that if she had to be careful when she was consciousness, who knew what dreams could elicit?

"You're not here to build a snowman, are you?" Anna asked, a sleepy smile lightening the air.

Elsa couldn't help but smile. "No, not tonight."

It had been hours since she learned of Hans' secret ability. She hadn't the heart or stability to return to Anna and the survivors. She took her dinner in her room and remained there until just minutes ago.

She couldn't sleep. Not with so many thoughts dancing and twisting and haunting her mind. There was too much to take in. The only center of peace she'd ever known was Anna, who was just a short walk away. A year of freedom to be with her sister reminded Elsa that she didn't have to be alone.

"I was... I was wondering if maybe..." Elsa tried, still not looking at her sister. "Could I... sleep in here tonight?"

Anna blinked slowly, probably certain she was dreaming now. "Um, yeah, yeah, that's fine." She opened the door wider and waved her sister inside.

"Thank you," Elsa said, clutching the pillow she'd taken from her room.

Anna's room was like Elsa's, but much smaller and much more cluttered. She stared out the window into the night as Anna closed the door and rubbed her eyes.

"You okay?" the princess blearily asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Elsa answered immediately. Anna might have countered that if she wasn't so sleepy.

"All right, you can sleep on the other side of my bed if you want," Anna shrugged, climbing back into the snuggly embrace of her blankets. "Yaknow, if you wanted a proper sleepover, you should ask me when I'm awake."

Elsa smiled slightly, feeling her heart grow warmer at the very sight of Anna. She was like Elsa's pacifier, something that could always ward bad feelings away and immediately relax the queen.

"Goodnight Elsa," Anna mumbled before disappearing under the covers.

Elsa quietly claimed her side of Anna's bed, her loose hair falling across her face as she lay on the pillow. She had plenty to think about; the survivors, the letter to the Southern Isles that was never written, Hans' gift or curse, whatever was the best term, and about how she felt so many emotions that she couldn't name them.

She thought of Anna, pure and simple, and her mind cleared immediately. The gentle warmth of the body of her sister made Elsa herself feel drowsy, and a smile crept across her face.

"Goodnight, Anna."

Elsa's world was changing, but at least she could have this one moment of contentment.

* * *

**Fire!Hans! _Finally! _Sorry for such a long chapter. I should probably note that this story is going to be relatively fluffy compared to some other pieces in the fandom. Yeah, sure, lots of angst, but not so much of the grit. So I apologize if this Hans seems a little more compliant and weenie-ish. I hope you grow to fall in love with the weenie douchebag prince.**

**Also, brothers amiright? Their role has only begun. ;)**

**Thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing, your words are like hot, slightly undercooked cookies.**


	6. Six

_Six_

The world didn't change. Even as Elsa sat in her study, staring blankly at documents she was supposed to be reading and trying to remember if Hans had actually held fire in his palm, the world did not change. The late-August sun still shone through her window, casting a spotlight on dust that would have never been seen otherwise. The sun still shone, even when the memory of the little flame covered every inch of Elsa's mind. How could the sun still shine when she knew that she wasn't the only magician?

It was a selfish thought, of course. To think that everything was centered around herself. _At least you're not as selfish as you were when you froze the kingdom for a hint of attention-_

"Shut up," Elsa muttered to herself. "Not now."

She supposed talking to herself was slightly mad, but she'd often only had herself for company, so she had to invent a conversational partner. Now that she was free to talk with whom she pleased, she didn't need to argue with herself. But old habits were hard to kill.

_Shouldn't you be telling Anna? She promised you'd tell her everything. That's the only reason you still have Hans here, isn't it?_

She shook her head, trying to focus on the paper in front of her. She reread the same word seven times and still couldn't find an ounce of meaning in it. With a deep sigh, she pushed the paper away and stared at the dancing dust in the air.

_Isn't it?_

She couldn't tell Anna. Not yet. Not when Elsa was still trying to sort everything out. It seemed impossible to think that she wasn't the only magician. And _Hans_, of all people. Why couldn't it have been another princess from some far away land? Someone that Elsa didn't feel her stomach twist with hatred every time she thought of them.

And yet... she didn't feel that twist as often anymore. Not since she began hearing his stories. And that was as terrifying as anything she'd ever faced. Feeling something like _pity _for the man who nearly killed her and Anna.

_Anna._

That's why she couldn't tell her sister yet. Because Anna still hated him. She didn't know his sob stories, and hearing about his magic might spark some kind of excitement. Anna might begin to have pity on Hans, too, knowing her tendency for acceptance. And Elsa needed a voice of reason. She needed someone to say, "Soooooo, when are you gonna write to the Southern Isles?" She needed Anna to hate Hans so that she might eventually recover from her spell of empathy.

Elsa took a deep, _deep _sigh and leaned forward again, looking for the paper she still hadn't read. She furrowed her brows and forced herself to focus on the words.

_Queen Elsa of Arendelle,_

_I am aware that any messages from my family may come as a shock and highly inappropriate, but..._

Elsa quickly lost focus, mind snapping right back to the prisoner with the fire in his veins. Her eyes still skimmed the paper, but any meaning was lost until she locked on one word:

_Hans._

She blinked, thinking she was seeing things. But no, there it was! She went to the beginning of the sentence, reading;

_The death of Prince Hans has been accepted, but we still feel anxious at this troubling news._

Elsa squinted in confusion. What? Who was this letter from?

She grabbed the envelope it had come in and stared at the seal. It wasn't the mark of the Southern Isles. Rather, it was that of the Northern Settlement, one of the lands in their chain of trade.

Bewildered, she turned back to the letter and began to read from the beginning;

_Queen Elsa of Arendelle,_

_I am aware that any messages from my family may come as a shock and highly inappropriate, but I request your aid at this troubling time. The Westergard family has had no greater scandal than that of my brother's outlandish behavior while in your kingdom, so please know that we have no disputation against you. I write in place of my mother, the queen, as my father and her have gone missing just this past year. As I reside in the Northern Settlement, this news came to me later than I'd hoped for, and was accompanied by later messages from my homeland, Westernland, and Changshe that three of my brothers have disappeared, the reports all coming within just weeks of each other._

_I should have shared the news earlier, but I admit that I was afraid of sending a letter due to our kingdoms' recent conflict. But I now feel as though I have no other choice. I believe that my youngest brother may be the cause of these disappearances. The death of Prince Hans has been accepted, but we still feel anxious at this troubling news. When my brother's ship didn't return to Westernland, it was thought that they'd perished at sea. But these occurrences have worried me. I'm led to believe that the ship may have been taken by my brother, and now he's taking an unjust revenge on the family. As far as I can tell, the pattern is in birth order; first the queen and king, then Campbell, then Francis, then John. Which would make me the next, if we don't solve this predicament._

_I once again apologize for dragging you into our family matter, but having been one of the last people to see Hans, our family could not thank you enough if you would share potentially helpful information._

_You may respond to Prince Jørgen of the Southern Isles or to I._

_Signed,_

_Archduke of the Northern Settlement and Prince of the Southern Isles,_

_Alecksander Westergard_

Elsa didn't know what to think. She wouldn't have to write a letter after all; they sent one first.

The story told by Alecksander clashed with what she knew to be true. The survivors that had swept into her kingdom was proof that the ship suffered a watery grave, and Hans was locked up in prison beneath the castle. He couldn't have kidnapped his own family while he was wandering the land.

_Couldn't he, though?_

A year was an awfully long time to be by oneself. Elsa remembered the Hans who had a burning gaze filled with hate. She'd seen it when she ordered he be thrown on the boat last year. That was the look of a man who could easily have kidnapped and killed his own family.

Elsa wondered that Ingvalda had never opened this letter. She supposed the stacks of paperwork that she always neglected had piled up too high for even the former custodian. She checked the date on the letter and winced at the month June. It was almost three months since this was penned. Guilt piled in her stomach at not attending her mail and documents for so long.

Which left her in an uncomfortable position. Nearly three months ago, the king and queen of the Southern Isles went missing along with their first three sons. Who knew if more had gone missing since then?

But then she thought..._what if I put an end to that already?_

What if Hans had been hopping around, kidnapping his family until he was caught? And she'd almost had pity for him!

But something didn't add up. Why would he have been in Arendelle stealing a boat if he had the means to sail to the Southern Isles already? And why was he so anxious to never go back? Were his stories just more fabrications and acting? And how did the fire fit into all this?

Elsa moaned, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. Her mind would burst if there was any more startling news. These past few days had been full of more than enough surprises to last the whole year.

One thing was for certain; she couldn't let anyone else see this. Not Ingvalda, not Anna, not Hans. Not until she could figure out for herself what kind of games were being played. She couldn't afford to have Hans shipped back, not when she had so much to learn. And if he _was_ the kidnapper, then wouldn't sending him back be a crime in itself?

She rose from her desk, sealing the letter back in its envelope and tucking it in her sleeve. She left the room, intending to go straight to her room and stuff this in her pillow. She couldn't risk leaving it on the table for Ingvalda to find.

No, this had to be secret. And Elsa was very good at keeping secrets.

* * *

Three o'clock tea was surprisingly cheerful. Elsa thought she'd be uncomfortable with Anna, what with everything she pulled yesterday. Nearly fainting and running away without explanation, not returning to help the survivors, and then waking her sister up in the middle of the night were enough reasons for Anna to cast a wary eye at her sister.

But Anna had the purest heart Elsa had ever known. After briefly asking if she'd sorted everything about yesterday out, Anna had seemed more than willing to let Elsa have her privacy. And the queen was grateful, thinking her sister was nothing less than an angel.

Which made withholding so many secrets from her even worse. Elsa had already told Kai to bring all new mail to her, without the knowledge of Ingvalda. He asked if she was all right, but honored her wish. and Elsa had good reason; Ingvalda wouldn't hesitate to take action. But Anna had never been anything but honest with Elsa, and all Elsa did was shut her out and lie.

_You're not shutting her out anymore,_ she tried to console. _You're having three o'clock tea with her like you do every day. She let you sleep in her room last night. She loves you._

"Yeah, and one of the guys laughed at Kristoff because he remembered seeing him last year eating the same carrot as Sven. Said that if sharing carrots with reindeer would get him into the castle, then he'd have to try it. Isn't that crazy?" Anna said, stirring her tea with the dainty spoon.

"Pretty crazy," Elsa replied, smiling. She thanked the gods for the ability to smile, given the past two days. "What did Kristoff say?"

"Oh, you know him," Anna said, rolling her eyes. "He just got that cute little blush across his face."

Elsa's smile grew wider. "Cute little blush?"

"Yeah!" Anna said enthusiastically, like she had dedicated her life to it. "Haven't you seen him blush? It's _adorable_!"

The queen laughed and nodded.

Anna sighed dreamily, still stirring her tea. "Our children are gonna be so cute."

"Oh?" Elsa said, eyebrow raised and smile turning mischievous. "And have you two been trying?"

Unlike Kristoff, Anna's blush was less delicate and covered most every corner of her face. Even her freckles seemed to turn bright red as she stopped stirring her tea.

Elsa laughed at her reaction. "How am I supposed to interpret that?"

Anna let out a brief chuckle, bringing her hands up and covering her cheeks. "It doesn't mean anything!" she assured. "Besides, Kristoff said that's taking things too fast. He just says to roll with it." The blush was receding, but her face was still redder than her hair. "_Ugh,_ I hate when he says that. I want to live _now_!"

"Can I not count on wedding bells in the future?" Elsa asked, feeling more natural than ever before.

Anna groaned and threw her head back. "Nooooo! At this rate, I'm going to be like, three hundred years old when he even thinks about proposing!"

"I'm sure it won't be quite that long," Elsa assured, sipping her tea.

Anna was still leaning back, rocking on the two hind legs of her chair. "I mean, it's not like I don't mind waiting for him. He doesn't mind kissing, so big win there. I think-"

The legs of the chair gave out underneath her and Anna yelped as her seat began to collapse under her.

In an instant, Elsa stretched her hand out protectively and cried out, "Anna!"

But Anna never hit the ground, since from Elsa's outstretched hand burst a miniature flurry. In less than a second, the chair and lower half of Anna's body was encased in ice.

Elsa stood up, immediately covering her mouth in shock. Anna's eyes were surprised and wide as she looked down at the position she'd been encased in. And to Elsa's surprise, she began to laugh.

"Look at this!" she giggled. "My moment of failure in a live portrait. Way to go, Elsa, you really captured my good side."

But Elsa wasn't laughing. The smile that came so easy was gone without a trace. "Anna, I'm so, so sor-"

"Ah, don't be sorry, it's fine," Anna said, shrugging as best she could with one hand encased in the ice. She used her free hand to push some hair behind her ear. "You think you could get me out, though?"

Elsa herself seemed frozen. She barely registered what Anna had said, and instead thought of how she could have froze her heart... again.

"I... I..." Elsa muttered.

"Elsa?" Anna asked gently, smiling fading. "Hey, Elsa? You there?"

"Y...yes," Elsa said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, let me help."

She tried to recall happy memories, memories of love. _Anna loves me, Anna loves me, Anna **had her heart frozen.**_

Love too easily turned to crippling fear. The ice that had been melting suddenly stopped, only freeing up to Anna's knees. Elsa was having trouble keeping her hands steady now. _And everything had been going so well..._

"Uh, Elsa?" Anna asked. "You missed a spot."

"I'm _trying_," Elsa snapped

Anna was taken aback as Elsa grew horrified with herself. Her words softened, immediately regretting what she'd said. "Anna, I'm sorry, I-"

"Elsa," Anna said firmly. "Just get me out."

She felt guilt return to the pit of her stomach. "Yeah... yeah."

With a shaky breath, she banished the bad and sought out only the good. Eventually, Anna had thawed and grabbed onto the table before the chair fell with a clatter.

The two were silent as Anna picked the chair up again and brushed off her damp dress. She looked down at the table, still set for tea, and sighed.

"I think that's enough for today," she said. "Want me to call in someone to clean up?"

Elsa couldn't do much more than nod, so Anna said goodbye to her and went to go fetch the help.

The queen stood for a moment, repeating the scene again and again. No matter how hard she tried, she was always crippled by fear. Fear was _always_ in the way. She saw Anna's face, weary and tired of Elsa's theatrics.

_Anna loves you, but she's getting tired._

Something that Hans had said came back to her, something about having the power, but not having the control. The words grabbed at her throat and pulled tight like a cobra.

She found her feet taking her somewhere to find peace of mind, but standing in her room and pulling her gloves on didn't satisfy her. She began walking through the castle, mindlessly walking, when she recognized the cobblestone stairs and wondered why she was automatically taking herself to Hans.

* * *

**The dynamic between Elsa and Anna is one of my favorite things about Frozen, or at least in theory. Not everything's bound to be peachy for them after nearly a lifetime of not truly knowing the other. They have as much to work through as Elsa and Hans do.**

**And here arises a conflict, finally, with the letter from Prince Alecksander. Writing romance is fun, but not nearly as much as when there's thrilling adventure involved. And don't worry, the lack of Hans in this chapter will be made up in the next. ;)**

**Make sure drop a review; they're almost as good as warm hugs.**


	7. Seven

_Seven_

The stool had already been set for Elsa when she came into the cell. Hans was casually drumming against his bed with his fingers as he sat, and looked up when the queen entered. His smile was slightly cocky as the drumming ceased.

"Couldn't stay away long, could you?" he said, but his smile fell when he saw her still grasping the handle, gloves and all.

He stood immediately, almost taking a step forward, almost reaching out to her, but his muscles failed him. Elsa might have thought him to be worried about her, but that would have been ridiculous.

"Your... majesty?" he asked, catching her gaze. He didn't have to mention the gloves to know they were the subject of interest.

"I had an accident," Elsa said quietly.

"An accident?" he asked slowly.

Elsa stared at her hands, still glued to the door. "I don't know why I came here."

"Are you... going to talk about it?"

With great effort, she unclasped her fingers and brought her gloves to her temples. She kept them there, as if trying to keep her brain inside her head.

"No," she muttered.

"Then why are you here-"

"I don't _know!_" she burst, turning around and feeling her fingertips grow icy against her head. Hans didn't look nearly as taken aback as she'd expected him to. Instead, he was sitting and leaning forward slightly. He had a look that wasn't surprised or shocked; rather he seemed to play the role of a doctor examining a patient and observing her symptoms. She didn't like it at all.

He said nothing, only watched her, which made prickles run down her spine. She remembered the letter from the Northern Settlement, remembered that there was a chance that he had kidnapped and/or killed multiple members of his own family. He'd tried to murder her and Anna, so what would have stopped the madman from taking the lives of his own family?

"How bad was the accident?" he finally asked.

She looked down at her gloves again, reminding herself that freedom was always just out of reach, always dominated by fear.

"I... I accidentally encased Anna in ice," she mumbled, despite having said she wasn't going to talk.

"You _froze _her again?" he asked, a scoff of disbelief accompanying his words.

She glared icicles at him and he closed his mouth, briefly remembering his place.

"I'm a creature of habit, it seems," she sighed.

"What... happened?"

She wanted to refuse to tell him, but thought it was be awfully babyish to do so when she'd already revealed the result.

"We were having tea and she slipped out of her chair. I... I reached out my hand. I didn't even mean to use ice."

"Is she okay now?"

Elsa looked up, an eyebrow perched questioningly. Odd that he seemed so concerned.

"Yes..." she said slowly. "But I lost my temper because she was being impatient and I... I..."

"Sit down," Hans interrupted her stumbling, gesturing to the stool. "I'll tell you another story."

She stared at him, with even more questions written across her look. "But I already know what happened to the boat. I don't need anymore stories."

"Just because you've heard the tale you wanted doesn't mean you can't hear others," Hans countered, sitting on his prison bench again. "Besides, you've liked all my other stories."

She should have just left. There was no point being down here when she needed nothing from him. Yet, she still sat on the stool, settling her skirts. "What kind of a story?" she asked.

"It's about me, of course," Hans said, lips turning up in a small smile. "Did you expect anything less from so vain a person?"

Elsa nearly smiled. She was already beginning to feel better, just a little. Maybe coming here had _some_ sense in it. After all, he seemed to know what he was doing. _That's because he's been in your position before, isn't it?_

She realized that Hans must have shoved the gloves on the same way, must have sought out a safe place like she did. She wondered if he had someone to make him smile and tell stories. It seemed childish to want a story, but it comforted her.

It was less warm than before, as September was only two days away, but it was still bright enough to watch dust dance in the sunlight.

"It's actually more about someone I met once," Hans admitted. "You are familiar with the kingdom of Aruna?"

Elsa nodded. Aruna was one of the thirteen kingdoms in a chain of trade, located in India.

"There was... another magician that I once met. She was from Aruna, royalty like you and I."

Elsa had never heard of any magicians from Aruna. In fact, she'd never heard of _any _other magicians before Hans.

"Who was she?"

"Her name was Princess Bhumi," he said the name like it was a sour taste he couldn't swallow.

"I've never heard of a princess from Aruna who can do magic."

"And I'm sure they've never heard of a queen who can build castles of ice," Hans said, running a glove through his hair even though it was a dirty mess that could only be cured by a good, long wash. "Well, now that your secret's out..."

He trailed off, hand falling from his hair (Elsa was kicking herself over not realizing sooner how much it resembled fire) and he continued. "Oh, Bhumi. We met ten years ago, when I was fourteen. Aruna had come to negotiate trade with the queen and my father. They brought with them their one daughter, who was just a year older than me. While trade was discussed, I stayed in my room like usual. Bhumi burst in, giving herself a tour of the castle. She asked if I wanted to know a secret. And then she grew a tree in my room."

Elsa blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

A subconscious smile spread across Hans' face as he nodded. "You didn't mishear, your highness. Princess Bhumi had the ability to make things grow or shrivel up. She'd found a small tree outside and grew it to stretch through my window." He chuckled a little at the memory. Elsa realized she'd never heard him actually laugh, it was always a chuckle, and often not a sincere one. "The tree was a sight to see. She asked if I wanted to climb down it, and when I said no she shrunk it again, shriveling the tree until it was small outside the window."

The smile faded away completely as he contemplated the rest of the story. "Jacob and Wilhelm, ninth and tenth in line, saw it happen," he said. "And they went to tell the rest of my brothers. They cornered me that night with question after question. They said she was abnormal just like me, and that she should be ashamed of herself for being so. And then they came up with a plot..."

He scrunched his eyebrows together, eyes fixed on the floor. "I was just a kid. All I wanted was their approval for once in my life. When they said I might be redeemed of my curse by getting rid of her, I jumped at the chance."

Elsa sat up straighter, startled. "You killed her?"

"No!" Hans said, eyes darting up. "No, I wasn't capable of that kind of evil. Not then, at least. Instead, I teased her like my brothers had teased me. I used the same kind of insults. Freak, inhuman, not fit for this earth. I never revealed that I was just as much a freak as she was."So I teased the girl to tears, made her run off to her parents and sob the whole story out. When they'd heard enough, they canceled the meeting and closed off trade with the Southern Isles.

"My mother was furious. She screamed and cried and clawed with her words. If she had been a more physical person than a verbal one, I would have been battered and bloody. All I could do was stand there and try not to let the words take root. But it was all worth it.

"For a few perfect days, my brothers looked at me with something resembling respect. They clapped me on the back, said things like, 'You did the right thing', and 'Maybe you're not so bad after all'. Of course, a week later they were back to normal, but those few days were pure bliss to that young teenager. I swore then that freaks like myself could only be dealt with in one way; harshly. They weren't meant to be here, and so all they could do was just accept it and take the beating."

He was quiet again, and Elsa wondered if that's how he was going to end it. But as a passing cloud darkened the room, he continued."Princess Bhumi sailed home to Aruna ten years ago, and I never heard from anyone with powers again. Until, well, you."

Elsa was quiet. How could one single person be so cruel to their own kind?

"You're a wicked person, Hans," Elsa said, voice deep.

He didn't offer a rebuttal.

"Is that it? That's the story?" Elsa asked, feeling heat seep in her veins. "What were you hoping to accomplish by it?"

"Well, it seems that your hate has been directed away from yourself," Hans pointed out.

Although she was warm with anger, she now noticed her hands weren't as cold as they'd been before. Was that what Hans was trying to achieve? To direct her hate from herself toward him? That seemed far too unselfish an ambition.

"Take off your gloves," he offered.

Elsa immediately became defensive. "Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm only suggesting, _your majesty, _that you'll never learn to control your ice if you shove the gloves on every time you get a little scared," he said.

The queen frowned, hands wrapped around each other. "I have good reason to wear the gloves. If I don't, I might hurt someone."

Hans laughed a little, gesturing around the cell. "Who is there to hurt here?"

Elsa blinked, staring at him. _Well, you, _she would have said if pride had not gotten in the way. After all, who cared if he _did _get hurt?

Still frowning, she slowly pulled one glove off, then the other. Hans smiled, almost warmly, as she folded and set them on the stool.

"Do you feel in control?" he asked.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Just answer it."

She wondered if it would be too childish to stick her tongue out at him. But... she did feel more in control. She scarcely wanted to admit it.

"In my case, loathing helped me be in control because I want to suppress my fire. Self-directed hate works because I'm not trying to control my fire, I'm trying to extinguish it. But for _you, _who loves her ice, hate only breeds fear," he explained as if he was a teacher and she was his pupil.

"How do you know that I love it?" she asked.

"Would someone who hates their ice run off and build a castle out of it?" he countered. "No, you escaped from this world of monotony and hoped that being alone meant being free to do what you truly loved."

Elsa wondered how this man could be so terrible. He seemed to understand things about herself that she didn't. He'd known the kind of torment she'd gone through better than anyone else ever could have, and still he'd swung the sword.

"How could you?" she asked

"How could I do what?"

_Everything._

"How could you hurt your own kind like that?" she muttered. "After all you'd been through, and you still acted as terribly as your brothers did."

Hans sighed. "There's no use trying to find an explanation besides that I didn't have values of my own. They were all adopted from the worst possible role models. But a year spent far away from them meant I had plenty of time to reflect on the damn mess that I am."

Elsa wondered if reflecting on the damn mess meant creating a mess out of his family. She still didn't know what to think of the business in the letter.

"And how do you understand my powers so well?"

The prince leaned against the wall with eyebrows sunken deep. "Is it necessary to ask so many questions?"

Elsa frowned. "I'm only trying to understand. I always thought I was alone in this corner of the world, and I had to understand magic from dusty old books with ancient texts that made little sense. But now it seems I've found a manual who can talk."

Hans sunk lower against the wall. "I don't know if I'm comfortable with being referred to as a dusty old book."

But Elsa didn't hear what he said. Her own words had sparked an epiphany. She _had _always been alone in her corner of the world, but now she wasn't. She had someone who seemed to be an absolute almanac on the subject. And he was her prisoner.

Imagine if she had power _and _control. Having power without the other was dangerous; she knew from experience. But if he was as controlled as he claimed to be, what was stopping her from demanding he teach her?

"Queen Elsa?"

She blinked out of her daydream and met green fire. Suddenly, this burden and puzzle to solve looked an awful lot like an opportunity.

"I... I have an idea," she said, not sounding nearly as confident as she hoped.

"Oh?" he said, crossing his arms. "Heaven help us."

She frowned, but let the words blow over. "Do you have confidence in your control?"

"What?" he scoffed.

"Humor me," Elsa said sternly.

He sighed and shrugged, looking like a bratty teenager. "I guess so."

"What would you say to teaching me how to control my powers?"

This perked his interest. He sat up straight and uncrossed his arms. Elsa had his full attention. "Control... your powers?"

"Was it not said clearly?" Elsa asked. "I wish for you to help me gain control."

His surprise turned quickly into skepticism. "Just because one simple calming exercise works for stress doesn't mean that our powers are controllable in a similar way."

"Who says they aren't?" she countered. The air seemed to be cold, then hot, then cold again, as if they were both subconsciously battling for dominance of the temperature. "At least we could try. I'll do anything to keep from hurting Anna again."

Hans' eyes dilated ever so slightly, invisible strings tugging at his lips. "Anything?"

Elsa realized her mistake and pointed a finger towards him. "Don't think I'll-"

"Listen, I won't request the crown, okay? I don't want it anymore. It reeks of your scent. I'll help you out, on two conditions."

She licked her lips and pressed them tight. "Name them."

His sly grin grew wider. He held a gloved finger up in the air. "One, you give me my own room in the castle. I'm sick of this cell."

Elsa already didn't like this. "That's a heavy request."

"Oh, and it's only going to get heavier," he said, lifting another finger. "Two, I want a ship to sail away."

"No," she said immediately. "Out of the question."

"Is it?" he asked, still smiling. "Because last I heard, you'd do _anything _to keep your sister safe from yourself."

"She's safer with you down here," Elsa said, rising from her seat. "No, your terms are far too much to ask."

Hans rose as well, chain rattling on his leg as he did so. "Then be a queen and negotiate. You know how to, right?"

She did, of course. She'd read book after book on law and running a kingdom. His expression seemed to imply she spent all those hours alone wasting time.

Elsa narrowed her eyes and accepted the challenge.

"You teach me control, and I'll give you a room in the castle._But,_you will be under at least three guards' watch at a time," she said.

"One guard."

"Two guards," she offered.

"Two guards," he agreed. "And my ship?"

"No ship."

"Then no deal."

She thought hard for a moment, weighing where she truly lay her priorities.

"You may have a ship only after I say you've taught me all I can know on control," she finally said with an air of finality.

Hans frowned. "Who's to say you won't keep me here forever?"

"I'm not like you, Hans," Elsa said haughtily. "I'm a ruler of my word, and once I'm in control, I'll let you go."

The terms seemed to take a bit of time to wrap around his head, but he finally complied with a scowl.

"Fine. It's better than this rotting cell, in any case," he said, eying the various stains of colors across the rock walls.

He extended his gloved hand and Elsa was about to offer hers when she noticed it was ungloved. She wasn't sure what the protocol was for making deals when both deal-makers had magical powers. She looked to Hans, who appeared to be thinking the same thing.

Then slowly, he began pulling his own glove off. He flexed his pale fingers before extending his hand again.

Elsa couldn't hep but smile a bit as she placed her hand in his.

His hands were very warm, especially compared to her freezing ones. They felt concernedly perfect in hers.

The blush on their faces must have been from the shocking temperature differences, she reasoned after feeling her cheeks grow red. Hans didn't have the thin line like Kristoff or the whole face like Anna. He had just two round blotches on his cheeks that made Elsa feel warm. _But the heat is just his fire, of course, _she reasoned.

Fire and ice became unlikely allies as they shook to seal the deal.

* * *

**Lots of dialogue and a bit of backstory here, but listen; it's the winds of change in Arendelle's castle.**

**Reviews are precious to me, make sure to leave them!**


	8. Eight

_ Eight_

"Lesson one: fear. If you want to freely use your power, you can't constantly be crippled by it. So today we're going to try and stamp all that fear out."

Elsa was already starting to regret this decision. As she stood in Hans' new room, she felt naked without her gloves. Yes, she'd been getting along without them for a good long while, but performing magic in front of this man was nerve wracking. Would he judge her poor control? What if he thought her performance to be laughable? _And why do I care?_

This was a terrible decision.

"Fear. Okay," Elsa said, trying to hide the fact that she was well beyond fear and was now wandering the land of the terrified.

"Gloves off, check," Hans said, taking inventory with his eyes. "Empty space, check. Window open, check."

"What does the window open have to do with it?" Elsa asked, turning to see the early September sky.

Hans' mouth turned up slightly in a way that was surprisingly unmocking. "I'd missed the taste of fresh air."

His appearance now was a dramatic change from what he'd been only two days ago. His matted hair had been scrubbed back into something that didn't resemble a swamp on fire. It didn't look anywhere near as neat and perfect as it had when she'd first met him at her coronation, and still needed to be cut. But the way it fell down in his face and the quick swipe back he often did wasn't necessarily unattractive.

The dirty clothes he'd worn were either being washed or thrown out; Elsa didn't care either way. He now wore a green and purple outfit- Arendelle's colors.

His gloves had also disappeared, which added to Elsa's discomfort. Not that she was afraid of him, really. She could easily defend herself if the need came. It was just... irregular. Everything about this room and what was happening in it was irregular.

"So, fear. Tell me what you most fear, your highness," Hans said, swiping his hair back again.

"I thought these were lessons, not therapy," Elsa said, trying to postpone answering.

"Of course they are," Hans answered. "But if I'm to teach you, then I'm going to have to know exactly what to beat out of you."

"Interesting way of wording it," Elsa muttered under her breath.

She stared down at her hands. Bare. Cold. Shaking.

"I...I'm afraid of hurting people," she confessed.

"And?" he prompted.

"That's it," Elsa said, glancing up from her hands. Hans was squinting, analyzing her every move. She felt it harder to breathe when he looked at her.

"I don't think so," he said, shaking his head. "There's something else."

Elsa frowned in return. "I think I'd know if there was anything more."

He only shook his head again and brought his hand up to the level of his chin. From his palm burst a flame, blazing to life and then dancing in the air.

"There's something familiar in your eyes," he said, staring into the flame. His focus then snapped to Elsa and he raised his head up a little higher.

"For this exercise, I want you to freeze your sister," he said.

Elsa's head cocked ever so slightly. "What?"

Hans tilted his hand so the palm was nearly level with the floor. The flames flowed like silk, but instead of spreading, they began to filter into an invisible mold. When finished, the flames had become a firey replica of Anna.

Elsa's heart stopped. "An-Anna?" she whispered, knees weak.

"Elsa?" the fire spoke and pierced straight through Elsa. "No, get away!"

The queen's head whipped to Hans, who was rubbing his hand with the other and watching her. Elsa's expression was ferocious.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

Hans nodded in the direction of the fire Anna, who looked down on Elsa with disgust.

"I don't want _her _here, she's only going to hurt us!"

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Elsa sputtered at Hans. "_This _is your idea of teaching me?"

Hans once again nodded towards the fire Anna. "I want you to freeze her."

"I nearly _killed her _last summer," Elsa snapped. "And you want me to do it again?"

"It's not the real Anna," Hans said, crossing his arms. "Would the real Anna say such terrible things?"

As if summoned, fire Anna began speaking again. "Don't touch me with your ice! You'll never be like the rest of us. You're a danger to everyone around you! You _monster._"

"The only way to save Anna is to freeze her," Hans reiterated.

But the words were wrapping around her mind and squeezing like the grasp of a cobra. _Monster monster monster._

"Monster," Elsa repeated.

"That's right," fire Anna spat. "You're nothing but a monster."

"If you freeze her, she'll stop saying it," Hans added.

"Give... give me someone else," Elsa gasped, tightly sealing her eyelids. "I can't hurt Anna."

Hans frowned. "If you-"

"I don't care, just give me someone else. Don't make me freeze Anna again," Elsa said, shaking her head as if it would make it all go away.

She didn't actually expect him to have such mercy, but fire Anna hadn't said a word. A dark chuckle broke the silence.

"Monster," the voice purred, though it was much deeper and menacing than Anna's had been. Elsa opened her eyes to see a Hans in the place where Anna had stood. He looked like the prince had last year, and comparing him to the man behind resulted in an astonishing difference.

Fire Hans grinned a terrible grin. "You didn't think you could ever be more than a monster, did you? It's not your fault, after all. Monsters can't control whether or not they're one. All we can do is _kill them._"

Elsa couldn't tell if this was more or less disturbing than fire Anna had been.

One thing this faux Hans had done was strike the real man silent. He stared at the firey image with something akin to terror written deep in his face.

"How unlucky to be born with a curse. From the moment you first took a breath, you were destined to not fit the image. You think wearing a crown will someone reconcile all that?" fire Hans continued, but the flaming man wasn't speaking to he. It turned to the real Hans behind it, moving closer.

Hans was still as marble, eyes fixed in horror on the figure that was closing in on him.

"No one wanted you, and no one ever will," the horrible creature crooned. "Thirteen is an undesirable number already, so it's no wonder that your life will never be for good. You're destined for nothing but trouble. Why not end it all? The world would be better for it."

As Hans was starstruck by the terrible image of himself, Elsa found her strength and crept quietly up behind it, unbeknownst to either version of the prince.

The blazing apparition reached out to Hans, its hand resting on his cheek.

Elsa crept closer, her hands hovering in the direction of the beast.

"Oh, Hans," it purred. "If only there was someone out there who loved you."

Elsa struck, ice bursting from her palms and fingertips. Ice met fire and the creature let out a hiss as it became nothing more than steam.

When the steam cleared, Elsa was left with a hollow sculpture of the creature that had once been fire and an unblinking Hans.

They stood for too long, not knowing what to say after such an encounter.

"You can create life?" Elsa finally asked, quietly.

Hans seemed to slowly twist out of a trance, looking up ever so sluggishly. "No... not create. I can mimic. Though they never have anything worth listening to."

Elsa thought back to Olaf, whose life she had created just last year. He'd been 'adopted' by Arendelle's home for orphans, and she hadn't seen him since before Hans' reappearance. He was a good fit there, Anna assured. It was her idea in the first place. Olaf was too precious to be kept in the castle for so long without any fun, anyway.

"I... suppose the lesson on fear has taught us something," Elsa murmured. "We've got a lot of work to do, the both of us."

Hans was silent again, and only nodded.

"It's nearly three o'clock," Elsa observed, hearing the bells outside chime for two forty-five. "I... have to go."

He still said nothing, just standing there like his shoes were stuck to the floor. Elsa pursed her lips and made for the door.

Grasping the handle, Elsa couldn't help but turn one more time. He was still there.

"Hans?" she asked, forcing herself to choke his name out.

He turned slowly, feet moving but remaining in the same location.

"Maybe we start with something easier tomorrow?" she suggested.

It took a moment for him to nod. "Yeah... yes. I apologize for today."

Elsa nodded once, then left the room to head for tea with Anna. Anna who loved her and wasn't her inner doubts and worries and demons brought to life by fire.

And if Anna had been Elsa's inner demon, then she now knew a hell of a lot more about Hans.

* * *

"Hey, I know you're queen and I'm supposed to totally trust your judgment and all..."

"But?"

"But..." Anna hesitated, biting her lip as she strolled along with her sister.

The two had finished tea early when Anna suggested they spice things up and go for a walk through the stables. At first, Elsa thought Anna had just wanted to find Kristoff, but as they strolled and glanced at animals, Anna seemed to only have focus on her sister.

"But, uh, I'm kinda failing at the trust business," Anna finally muttered.

Elsa pulled her lips together, blood washing cold with guilt. This was about Hans. She'd had three lessons since he moved into his new room; the second and third getting more accomplished than the first. The queen had been dreading to tell Anna about her decision to move the prisoner, especially since she couldn't explain everything. Anna still didn't know about Hans' powers, so giving the reason that Hans was going to be her teacher didn't make much sense.

Instead, Elsa had only been able to say _trust me._

She'd already let Hans get this far. She couldn't tell Anna, who was her anchor to the realm of sanity, or she might drift away. Saying to trust her made Elsa feel like she was slowly killing Anna. After all those years, only to finally know each other and still not have enough trust to be honest. The look on Anna's face was a smile, but Elsa saw the hurt. There was nothing behind that mask besides hurt.

Elsa closed her eyes, feeling her heart pound. _Not now, not now. Positive thoughts._

There weren't many positive thoughts nowadays. The letter, Hans' release from his cell, the hurt she inflicted upon Anna, the first day of lessons that had gone less than desirable...

But, there were a few. After all, Elsa would soon be in control of her magic nearly as completely as Hans was of his. But after their first lesson, she was beginning to doubt herself. Was Hans even in control? Still, the second and third lesson had been actually helpful. Elsa could now freeze the walls without being afraid she couldn't melt it. And considering she'd never caught on to his secret before, she supposed he was as close to professional in the field of control as she could get.

_Anna never caught on either, and you're hardly professional._

Elsa nearly ground her teeth. That kind of thinking was going to be the destruction of herself.

"I understand that it's hard to go on trust alone," Elsa said carefully as they passed a feisty stallion. "And... and I know we promised to be close and honest."

"Uh-huh," Anna agreed not-so-subtly.

"But this is something I need to do by myself," Elsa said, her heart breaking as she spoke. Although she didn't look at Anna, she could just _feel _the disappointment in the air.

"Elsa, you know that you don't have to do stuff alone anymore, I'm-"

"Enough," Elsa said, stopping and holding her hand- which was gloved- out to cut the conversation.

Anna halted and closed her mouth, but the hurt lingered in the air more than any words or looks could. _Just a little while longer. You'll learn, he'll leave forever, you and Anna can continue your lives._

"Have you... had your fill of the stables?" Elsa asked calmly.

Anna wordlessly nodded and turned on her heel, speedily walking away.

With every step her sister took away, Elsa's distress increased. She found her arms curling up, hugging her body in what seemed to be relapse into her old habits.

_The sooner Hans is gone, the better._

Elsa caught up to her sister eventually, but they didn't speak a word. There was so much to be said, but they had nothing to say. As they reentered the castle, they were greeted by Elsa's favorite member of staff- Kai.

"Your majesties," he greeted politely with a bow towards each sister. They both smiled and nodded in return, but Elsa's smile dropped with her stomach when she saw the letters in his hands.

"As you asked, the mail," Kai said, holding the papers out to the queen.

Elsa was stuck. Anna was right there, watching the entire exchange. She'd definitely blab to Ingvalda about the irregular occurrence, to which the former custodian would certainly be suspicious of. Her wide eyes darted to her sister, who was looking at the mail with a slightly cocked head.

Elsa cursed herself for not explicitly stating that their exchange wasn't to be known to Ingvalda _and _Anna, but it was too late now.

With a smile in return, she took the letters and quickly held them to her chest in case Anna tried to glance at any names.

"Thank you, Kai," she said dismissively.

Kai, who was looking at Anna and seeming to realize he'd made a mistake, bowed again and took his leave for the sisters to stand in silence.

Elsa couldn't look at Anna. How could she explain this?_Trust me_? That was going to get old very, very quick.

"So... you're having the mail delivered to you now?" Anna asked quietly.

"I _am _the queen," Elsa said, defense her only option, it seemed.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not saying you're not," Anna began to ramble. "I'm just saying that you've been kinda weird lately because I mean tea seems to always get interrupted and you're wearing the gloves again and the gates have been open for a year but you still don't have any friends and you're letting our attempted _murderer _out of jail, and now you're getting the mail and you've never had any interest in the mail before and I just..."

Anna took an enormous breath, but didn't continue. Elsa had looked up as Anna ranted, and their gaze had locked.

"I'm worried, Elsa," Anna finished. "I feel like nothing's changed."

Elsa wrung her hands together, wanting badly to wrap them either around herself or around her sister. Instead, they stayed clasped with each other.

"There's a lot of change coming. And I'm trying to figure it out. Right now I'm only trying to keep you safe, and- I know! I know, don't interrupt me," Elsa said, holding a hand up as Anna's mouth opened. "And I promise, _promise, _that I'll tell you everything. Just not yet."

The princess looked sad, but put on a brave face that was almost worse. "O-okay."

Elsa nodded and walked away, not sure how to end the conversation. With each step, her face fell further.

_She's never done anything but be honest-_

"Stop," Elsa growled, shaking her head and bringing the letters to her attention. A few were pieces she'd let Ingvalda handle, but letters from the Western Chain and Changeshe were of particular interest.

She made a stop at the study to place the other mail on the pile, then made a beeline for the comfort of her own room.

Sitting atop her bed, she tore at Queen Simone of the Western's Chain's letter first.

It was a plead for help, not unlike the one sent from Aleksander in the Northern Settlement. The Queen spoke of how her king consort, Francis, has now been missing for months;

_I hope to put recent relations aside concerning the loss of my delegate, and especially apologize for my brother-in-law's behavior, though he too has gone. I doubt the disappearances are related, though. We can only pray Francis doesn't meet the same watery grave his brother did._

Elsa read it quickly once and thoroughly twice, then picked up the one from Princess Ning of Changshe.

With slight wording differences, she told the same story; a husband of high power missing under strange circumstances and a cry for help.

"No wonder he had throne envy," Elsa muttered. It made sense that Hans had been craving the crown so bad as to kill her and Anna. Prince Campbell was to inherit the Southern Isles, Prince Francis was king consort of the Western Chain, Prince John was married to the heir of Changeshe, and Prince Aleksander was archduke of the Northern Settlement. And those were only his four oldest brothers. Who knew what kind of power the others had?

There were a few things that stuck out at Elsa, though. For one, neither letter mentioned any of the other brothers going missing. Same family, same circumstances. This wasn't a coincidence anymore; this was something higher than that. Whatever- or _who_ever- was causing the disappearances knew what they were doing.

She wondered briefly if it was a curse. After all, thirteen was an unlucky number, wasn't it?

The number thirteen stuck in her head. Something else was number thirteen, besides Hans. What was it?

Something clicked inside her head that caused the queen to sit up straight. Her mouth opened in a soft 'o' before she quickly stashed the letters and ran into her study for a pen and paper.

After scrambling for writing material, she made a list of Arendelle and their trading partners;

_Arendelle, Weselton, Northern Settlement, Eastern Territory, Western Chain, Changeshe, Aruna, Corona, DunBroch, Agrabah, Maldonia, Southern Isles_

There were twelve kingdoms in their chain of trade. Elsa furrowed her brow, frustrated. She was sure there had been some kind of correlation. She tapped the feather end of her quill against her lips as she thought. Was she trying to find a connection that didn't exist? What was the mistake?

_Mistake._

Hans had said something about a mistake... what was it? Elsa closed her eyes tight and thought as hard as she could.

"_The thirteenth child, the mistake that made a perfect balance of twelve screwed up."_

Elsa opened her eyes with a gasp. The perfect balance of twelve... of course. It was no coincidence that Hans' four oldest brothers were in high positions of power in so many places. The chain of twelve kingdoms wasn't just for trade; it was a menu for the brothers.

And Hans was the spare.

* * *

***strums chords to Imagine Dragons' Demons***

**Lots of emotional issues here for everyone, and on top of that, a pretty big plot point that involves the brothers. Are you guys having fun yet? ;)**

**Oh, and this link may be particularly helpful with the Westergard family. It also provide a bit of geeky explanation as to their names lol (make sure to remove spaces)**

**h0tbread. tumblr. com post/71462158430/wow-okay-so-since-im-a-big-friggin-dork-ive**


	9. Nine

_Nine_

There wasn't much irregular with Elsa bursting into Hans' room, despite the time of day. But she could see from the startled and confused look on his face that she must have looked an absolute scene; face red from hurrying and a bunch of papers crumpled tightly in her palm.

"We haven't been honest with each other," she stated bluntly once the door had shut, her focus concentrated on the man who sat at his bed with a glass of water and a book she'd allowed him.

He set the glass and book on the floor since she hadn't allowed a table. Standing, he rolled his neck and Elsa could hear the minuscule cracks it made.

"Oh? Are you seeing other magicians?" he asked, voice light. He'd been in a decidedly good mood lately. She supposed bathing was a likely candidate for the attitude.

But her serious expression sobered him, the playful look in his eyes dying.

"What is it?" he asked.

She looked down at her fist and the papers- which consisted of the letters she'd been receiving and hiding in her pillow- had just a slight dusting of frost across the top.

"You never told me why you first came to Arendelle."

Hans scoffed, crossing his arms. His mood seemed to be returning quickly after assuming the situation wasn't as bad as she'd made it out to be.

"I came here to become king. I thought that was obvious."

"No, I mean why you wanted to be king. And don't bother to answer, because I already know," she said, holding up a hand to keep him from talking.

He slumped his shoulders, a pout taking over him.

"What I want to know is why you never told me about your family's plan," she rushed, like if she didn't finish it in one breath, she wouldn't be able to say it at all.

This drew his attention better than a slap across the face could. The pout transformed into shock automatically. He was a mirror to the past, an exact replica of when she'd discovered his fire. Elsa was stripping every last secret away from him.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," he said, eyes glancing down. The year all alone truly had changed him. The expert liar Elsa had known briefly was all but completely gone.

"Your oldest brother, Campbell, is heir to your mother's throne," she began, unfolding the letters and skimming for content. "Your second, Francis, whose boat you took, is king consort of the Western Chain. John, prince consort in Changeshe. Alecksander, archduke of the Northern Settlement. And you still have eight other brothers who are sweet-talking their way into other courts, don't you?"

Hans' confusion grew, hostility and defensiveness overthrowing meekness. "How do you know all that? What's in those papers?"

But Elsa didn't pause. "Twelve brothers, twelve kingdoms. Your parents devised a plot to control our entire ring of trade. Imagine their surprise when an unexpected, unneeded thirteen showed up."

Hans crumbled, acting as though he was only two feet tall again. He didn't say a word.

"You were never meant to take Arendelle, were you?" Elsa said, quieter. "Your parents sent you here after telling you that they'd decided to use you in their plan. You thought you'd finally been recognized by them. But they knew you'd fail. I just can't understand why they would ruin their relations with us to-"

"You're wrong," he snapped.

Elsa stopped talking, staring at the man who had interrupted her. He looked angry, but his green eyes were soft when they caught hers.

With a deep sigh, he rubbed his forehead and pushed his hair back, although the longest of it had been cut days ago. He gestured to his bed, as her stool had been left behind in the cell.

It shouldn't have been hard, to just get on the bed and sit, but Elsa had to make herself do it. Sitting on the same thing as Hans automatically made them closer in distance. Why did that terrify and excite her?

He sat at least three feet away, decent enough to give her her own space. He stared at the wall adjacent from the bed, trying not to meet her glance again.

"You're not wrong about the first part," he began in a murmur. "I was a surprise to everyone. There were only supposed to be twelve princes, twelve people to control the entire chain of trade. The Southern Isles would thrive with royalty in every kingdom. But my father had little to do with it. He was king consort, after all. The queen was the one who desired power."

Elsa remembered him speaking fondly of his father, the only person who didn't seem to have damaged him in some way.

"And you're wrong about them sending me. Jørgen, my seventh brother, was promised Arendelle. Francis was lending him the boat, since his delegate was attending. They'd pick up Jørgen and lead him to woo you or your sister or someone else in court and become powerful.

"But I got so envious, even more than I usually was. And eventually I just... snapped. On the day that Jørgen was to leave, I had already packed my things and told the crew there had been a change in plans, and that I was to take Jørgen's place. I made them leave before anyone could ask questions. Next thing you know, my head's spinning and I'm on my way to Arendelle."

He fell silent and Elsa looked up. He looked ashamed. That year truly had molded him into someone else... unless it was still just acting. She remembered Alecksander's theory that it had been Hans stealing away members of the family, and she grasped the letters tighter.

"My fifth brother, Louis, is currently influencing the czar's decisions in the Eastern Territory. Loius is unmarried, but everyone knows that the czar is awfully fond of taking on new lovers despite his drag of a wife," Hans said with a slight chuckle. "But I'm not the only failure. Charles has been working in Aruna for years with no success. Well, as far as I know. He might have finally broken through this year."

His green eyes were dulled by the conversation topic. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and his voice wavered in the very slightest. No one could lie that convincingly. Even last year, his entire facade seemed so... artificial. He couldn't have been kidnapping his family.

"You really can't go back, can you?" Elsa asked quietly.

He tilted his head to glance at her.

"They all think you're dead, and are glad of it. If you went back, they would punish you for nearly ruining their plans, not for trying to take over."

He nodded, staring at his hands. "I fear for my life."

Elsa shook her head slowly. "If you're being honest, then your mother is a very wicked woman."

A choked laugh escaped, his shoulders rising and falling sharply. "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

He sighed, bowing his head down as the laugh subsided and they fell into quiet again. He raised his head and looked to her, eyebrow raised.

"I must know, how did you guess? I mean, first my fire, now this? Am I truly an open book?"

Elsa felt unnecessarily guilty, the letters searing in her hand. "Well... I haven't been completely honest either."

As if he could read her mind, his gaze trailed to the papers. He leaned forward and attempted to grab them, but Elsa swiped her hand to her chest, tossing him a warning glance.

"What are those?" Hans asked curiously, a slightly dangerous edge in his voice.

She set them on her lap and held the first one- the one from Alecksander- to him warily. She could be making a huge mistake. If he _was _the one who had started taking his family members, then who knew what showing him these letters could mean for him? For her?

He took the letter, unexpectedly gingerly. His face twisted in recognition.

"This is the seal of the Northern Settlement," he stated, looking to her for a response.

She nodded, then pointed with her eyes from him to the letter, wordlessly suggesting to read it.

He pursed his lips and opened the envelope, proceeding to read its contents.

Elsa kept her eyes on him as he read. She noticed how his eyebrows were active in his reading. They arched and sloped as his lips silently uttered Alecksander's words. They finally set low to give the effect of eternal confusion. Slowly, he lowered the letter into his lap, still staring at it.

Eventually, he turned his head to her and see could see something else written there. Was it... fear?

"Why didn't you show this to me?" he asked quietly.

_You're my prisoner, I'm not obligated to show anything to you, _her mind answered.

"I... I don't know. I thought I could handle it myself. I didn't know what to think, but then these letters came from Changshe and the Western Chain," she said, handing him the other letters, which he quickly snatched and nearly ripped open.

"No one else has seen the letters," Elsa explained as his eyes darted from line to line. "I've been keeping the mail away from Anna and Ingvalda, just in case there's more. I don't need them to be worrying about this."

"Who's Ingvalda?" Hans asked while still reading.

"She was my father's cousin, I think. I don't know. She was sent for when my parents were lost at sea to become custodian and wear Arendelle's crown until I was old enough to become queen. She still lives here, helps me out. She does most of her old duties, truth be told."

Hans looked up, eyebrow perched again. "She does all your work?"

Elsa felt her cheeks warm. "I don't make her; she volunteers to do it. I think she enjoys all the work. And it's hard to let old habits die, so it's very kind of her to take my harder duties while I'm still transitioning into the role of queen."

He looked skeptical (as if he was in any place to judge her actions), but returned to the letter. She let him read in silence until he pushed the papers away.

"Well, good riddance to them," he muttered, staring out the window.

Elsa pursed her lips and looked down at the letters. She wondered again if it had been stupid to let him see these. She picked them up and sorted them back into their envelopes as Hans closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

"You've gotten no more letters?" he mumbled, covering his face with his hands.

"No, I only got the last two today," Elsa said. She ran her fingers against the paper of the letter, thankful that there was no ice trail following them. "Are you really so indifferent to your family?"

Hans was quiet, hands hiding whatever expression could possibly betray him.

Elsa began to panic. What if he was the one? The person who had stolen away his family members; what if he killed them? He was shielding his face because he was trying to decide to react, wasn't he?

As her heart quickened, he finally ran his hands down to reveal a hardened face. He wasn't about to betray any emotion.

"Yes," he answered coldly. "And indifference should be seen as a kindness to them. When did they ever show me an ounce of concern? Well, they don't deserve any of mine. I'm glad the queen's plan is ruined. I applaud the killer, kidnapper, whatever they are."

Elsa felt disappointed._What else did you expect? _her mind asked._A tearful admission that despite the years, he's forgiven them and is concerned?_

"Not even towards your father?" she asked quietly.

She saw his jaw grow taut. There was the chink in his armor.

"Thank you for showing me these letters," he avoided the question with a slight twist of his wrist, waving the letters away like they could disappear into thin air. "Though it's no concern of mine."

"If anyone finds these, you should be concerned," Elsa warned, rising from the bed.

Hans crossed his arms. "Oh?"

"After all, Alecksander thought it might be you," Elsa said, each word quieter and slower than the last. _Way to be subtle._

Hans sat up straighter, arms uncrossing. "You think..._I-?_"

"I'm not saying anything," Elsa hurried to cover. "I'm only saying that you'll never get your boat if anyone catches one word of these letters."

The concept of life imprisoned waned his temper. "And what am I to do about it?"

Elsa pondered, the with a sigh said, "Hope. And hurry with our lessons. The sooner you leave, the better."

But as she spoke those words, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. _Would it really be better? _After all, the only other person she'd ever confided in was Anna, but that was so sparingly. Years of being told to keep secrets from Anna made it hard to confess anything to her.

One thing Anna said while she had been monolouging earlier today had stuck with Elsa. ...a_nd the gates have been open for a year but you still don't have any friends..._

Elsa hadn't ever had a friend. Besides, Anna, of course, but they were of the same blood. She'd often imagined what it would be like to share such a bond with someone by choice.

In seemingly a fit of insanity, she blurted, "Hans, are you my friend?"

The prince leaned a little, like the words were a wind that had blown him back. "What?" he asked with a slight laugh.

Elsa knew her face was burning. _What a **stupid** thing to say._

"That's hardly a question for the queen to ask her prisoner," Hans said, making her want to take the words back immediately.

"But," he continued, "I... I suppose so."

Why did butterflies seem to brush against Elsa's stomach as he spoke those words? She couldn't help but smile, just a little bit.

"Though, I suppose I wouldn't know," Hans confessed. "I've never had any friends."

"Me neither," Elsa said quietly, eyes slowly trailing towards Hans'. Green met blue and faces turned faintly crimson.

There was something they both tried to say, but neither could figure it out for themselves. So words were left unspoken, and their eyes eventually broke contact.

"So... lessons. Tomorrow at two?" Elsa asked.

"Yes. Yes, of course," he said. "And I will do my best to hurry."

The idea of hurrying was strangely less than desirable for both the queen and the criminal.

* * *

**More secrets uncovered and two dweebs unknowingly falling for each other. What could be better?**

**Thank you again for everyone's heartfelt, inspiring reviews ****among ****faves and follows. You guys are an amazing bunch of readers.**


	10. Ten

_Ten_

The home for orphans had been Anna's idea, naturally. While Elsa was been pining away in her room year after year, young Anna- scarcely fifteen- sought a way to make something out of her loss of parents. She realized there were others who had no parents or guardians while Anna had a castle and a sister and the recently moved-in Ingvalda. They had nothing.

She reached out to the custodian and pleaded a home for orphans be built. Her wish was granted, and since then, Arendelle had its own home for the children that were much less fortunate.

Elsa found it hard to smile in such a place. As she looked around, there were children playing and laughing like there wasn't a care in the world. The talking snowman was a big part of that. But..._how can they be so happy?_

When the king and queen were lost at sea, Elsa thought she'd never be happy again. In fact, the next time she'd felt something akin to bliss was when she fled to the north mountain and pretended like she could start a new life.

Scorn for children was pretty low, even for her. She knew that. But as she looked around, she saw their toothless smiles and high pitched giggles and thought how unfair that she'd never been able to giggle and laugh after the gloves were shoved on.

"Elsa!" Anna laughed, pulling her sister out of her bitter thoughts. "Come play!"

Elsa forced a smile at her sister, who was waving a carrot in her hand. The snowman whose nose had been stolen was jumping up and reaching with his twig arms.

"No fair! I can't reach!" Olaf said, stretching up in vain. This caused the surrounding children to burst into giggles.

"Catch!" Anna said, tossing it to one of the kids. The little boy caught it with both arms and hugged it tight with a wide smile.

Olaf turned around and ran at the kid. "Give it back!"

The child shrieked and bolted away, taking a hoard of the other children with him.

The snowman followed behind on waddling legs, saying, "Hey, get back here! You'd better not eat my nose!"

The room suddenly bled dry of life besides the two sisters. Anna's face was glowing with happiness, and her cheeks were two rosy blotches of pure joy. She turned to Elsa, who again faked her smile. In truth, she felt it was easier to breathe now that the children were gone.

"Isn't it great here?" Anna asked with a sigh. "Olaf says the children always want to play. Which is really great for him, since I can't remember the last time when he wasn't pumping with energy."

Elsa looked around what was the orphans dining room. There was a long table with chairs lining every inch of it. A bowl sat in the middle, no traces of any food left.

She ran her finger across the wood of the table, trying to be happy for them. To be happy that these children who had faced such tragedy were able to act normal again and play and laugh and sit at the table with the new family they'd created.

These children had so little, but they had much more than what Princess Elsa then had.

"Elsa?" Anna asked, waking her a second time.

"Yes, I'm sorry," Elsa said, shaking her head and looking her sister in the eyes. Anna's joyful glow had faded, her braids even seeming to hang a little limper.

"Are you... okay?" she asked. "I mean, I don't know exactly what you're thinking, because I never really do since you're still kind of a closed book to me, but..."

Elsa waited for her and she paused to bite her lip and look around the room.

"Is it... is it our parents?"

Maybe Elsa wasn't as much of a closed book as Anna thought.

Elsa's failure to answer and her gaze quickly darting to the tabletop confirmed Anna's hypothesis.

"I felt kind of uneasy when I first came in here," Anna confessed, leaning against one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table that Elsa sat at. "I mean, when our parents died, we had no one but each other, and... well, it was lonely for both of us. And I don't blame you for anything," Anna hurried to say, afraid she'd hurt Elsa by reopening issues. "I know why you had to stay away from me."

"I shouldn't have," Elsa muttered, still staring at the table.

"You did the best you could," Anna shrugged.

"No, I didn't," the queen countered, glancing up. Anna had one braid in her hand and was pulling ever so slightly on it, a nervous reflex. "If I had done my best, I would have been a better sister. I would have been in control of my powers and I wouldn't have shut you out."

Anna was for once, silent. Elsa knew exactly what Anna was thinking; _Yes, you could have. But you didn't._

"I just... these kids have been through a lot too. One of the girls accidentally poisoned her parents when she made little cakes with toxic berries in them," Anna said. "And she's getting help to recover, but she's never going to shake the fact that it was her fault.

"We couldn't have known there was going to be a storm, Elsa," Anna emphasized. "You and I can't blame ourselves."

Elsa's heart was twisting into shapes that made it hard to stand. She slipped into one of the small chairs, and Anna mimicked.

"I just... if we had just asked them to not go-"

"Elsa," Anna said firmly. She reached across the table and grabbed her sister's hand. Elsa hardly flinched. "You have to let it go."

_Let it go._

She'd known that phrase before. When she'd ran from her problems and built a castle of ice. The same words shouldn't have been applicable to facing one of the problems she'd run from. She'd thought maybe her demons would disappear if she tried banishing them.

Someone else she knew had been clinging to their demons. Memories of Hans caught in horror-struck immobilization under the control of his likeness in fire drifted to her head. Fire-Hans had scared her, reminding her of the monster he was. _Or still is?_ Could he still be the same person?

She stared at the table again, looking for answers in the swirls of peeling wood.

_The past is in the past._

Elsa took a deep breath and exhaled a portion of her worries with it.

_My parents are dead._

_I could have treated Anna better._

_Hans was a vile monster._

But it was out of her control. These problems weren't something to beat herself with, they were there for her to remedy. She couldn't bring her parents back, but she still had a loving, caring sister to treat like the princess she fully deserved to be. As for Hans... she'd recently accepted him as her first friend outside of family. She'd have to trust that _that_ Hans had perished in flames long ago, and from ashes, this newer one may have emerged. And if not, maybe someday soon he would. He'd be a phoenix.

She had much to conquer herself. She couldn't let guilt and fear scratch and claw at her every day. She remembered an old story Gerda would tell, the Legend of the Snowbird, a creature who had once been too scared to play with the other birds, until he finally grew courageous enough to trust and love them. They made the snowbird their king when he became brave enough to face the shapeless enemy called fear.

_I'll be the snowbird, _Elsa thought. _And Hans will be a phoenix._

She finally turned back to her sister with a genuine smile and nodded. "You're right," she said. "Thank you."

Anna's mouth stretched wide with happiness. Still holding her sister's hand, she squeezed with reassurance.

"I hate seeing you sad, Elsa," she said. "You deserve to be happy."

Before Elsa could recognize the warm bubbles of pride in her stomach, heavy footsteps entered the room.

"Kristoff!" Anna greeted and let go of Elsa's hand to jump at her man. Kristoff was only caught slightly off guard, laughing as Anna enthusiastically hugged him. They shared a quick kiss before Anna refrained from clinging to anything besides his hand.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said with a jolly edge to his voice. He noticed Elsa and nodded in respect. "Though I'll admit it's a surprise to see _you_ here."

Elsa smiled at him and rose, nodding in return. "I've only been here a few times. It was Anna's idea to bring me here."

"Oh?" he asked, turning back to the girl with the stupidly in love grin.

"Yeah, I was thinking it'd be nice to visit the kids and Olaf," Anna said, then blinked her eyes rapidly as she remembered something. "Oh, geez. I totally forgot! We're riding today, aren't we?"

"Well, that was the idea," Kristoff said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your horse is outside, but if you're busy with Elsa-"

"No, no, I'm so stupid," Anna groaning, punishing herself with a slap to the forehead. "I didn't even think!" She turned to her sister with a distressed look. "Elsa, I'm really sorry. I'm going to have to cancel tea today. I promised Kristoff that we'd go riding and have a picnic. I mean, if you want to come..."

But Elsa could tell that both Anna and Kristoff had nothing but each other now on the mind. And besides acting like an unneeded third wheel on a bicycle, Elsa had lessons with Hans today.

So she waved them away, saying, "No, it's fine. You two have your fun."

Anna shot her a grateful look as Olaf waddled back into the room with his nose missing. His beady eyes found Kristoff, face lighting up.

"Oh, good! Kristoff's here! Gimmie a carrot, I think my nose just got eaten."

* * *

"Lesson number four," Hans said, hands held elegantly behind his back. "Trust."

"Trust?" Elsa asked, holding her hands out blindly. "You know, I don't really feel as though this blindfold is going to help develop any trustworthiness."

In the dark nothingness, she felt his hand grab hers. "This exercise will also build agility and accuracy. To have control of your power means that you're going to have to trust it even without all senses. And sight is a huge one."

He led her to the bed, which he helped her sit on. She sat with her hands folded elegantly, awaiting instructions.

"I want you to build a statue on the floor," Hans said. "Without looking."

Elsa frowned. "But... what if I accidentally hit something?"

"Just focus," Hans assured. She felt the bed shift under her, and she guessed he'd sat down. "What do you want to make?"

She bit her lip and tried to focus on which direction the floor was. Definitely down. She took an image into her mind and held her palms facing the stone floor. Elsa felt the ice leaving her fingertips as she blindly sculpted.

She heard Hans chuckle beside her, and she stopped. "What is it?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing, nothing," he said, clearing his throat. "Continue."

She let it slide and kept building. Eventually, she finished her masterpiece.

"Can I look now?" she asked eagerly, not waiting for his word to rip off the blindfold. The sight before her eyes was not a pretty one to be greeted with.

The snowman she'd tried to build had a body and middle, but its head was lopsided and hanging to the right. Its icicle nose was pointing on top like a hat.

She couldn't help but giggle at the sight. "That was a failure."

"Not entirely," Hans said, pointing at it. "You contained your ice within the same space. You trusted yourself enough to not have shaking, unreliable hands. I'm sure if you hadn't had the blindfold on, then your snowman may have been built less... abstract."

"Should I try again?" she asked, holding the blindfold up. He shook his head no and took the strip from her.

"What's next is slightly more challenging," he said, rising from the mattress. He turned to stand in front of her with his feet spread apart and his arms tucked neatly behind his back. "I want you to freeze me."

Elsa immediately clawed her nails into the bed. "_What?_"

"I want you to freeze me," he repeated, nodding at his feet.

"But...but..." she sputtered, images of Anna on the fjord and Anna at tea springing through her mind and lighting all kinds of warning signals.

"You have to trust that you'll be able to retract your ice as easy as you can put it on," Hans explained.

"But I can't," she bit.

"Then it's good to practice on me."

Elsa couldn't comprehend the meaning of his words. "What?"

"You're terrified of freezing people, so I'm the best candidate to practice on. If you can't unfreeze me, no harm done, right?"

_There it was again. _He implied that he meant nothing to Elsa. He'd done that once before after telling her the story of the girl who could make plants grow and shrivel. He'd laughed, _Who is there to hurt here?_

"Why do you do that?" Elsa asked.

He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Do what?"

"You're always saying stuff like that. That it's no great loss if I hurt you."

He shrugged, but his eyes couldn't meet hers. "It wouldn't, to you. After all, I'm only a prisoner."

"You're more than that, you're... you're my teacher," Elsa hesitated, trying to vocalize her point. "If you get hurt, then how will I learn to control myself?"

He nodded understandingly, but still couldn't meet her eyes. "I suppose so."

But that wasn't right. It didn't feel correct leaving Elsa's tongue. It wasn't because he was her teacher..._then what was it?_

"I promise you'll be able to control it," Hans assured. "If you're so worried about me, know that I can melt the ice easily." A small spark erupted in his palm to prove his point. "Now, freeze my feet to the floor."

Elsa stood slowly and clear her throat. She looked her teacher in the eye and felt calmer than she'd expected. Maybe it was because of the freeing she'd done at the 't let fear consume you. Trust in yourself.

Exhaling, she released ice from her palms and watched them curl around Hans' legs, taking shape and firmly cementing him to the ground. When it climbed to his thigh, she stopped, bringing her hands down to her side and took a breath.

"Good, now unfreeze me," Hans said, his voice gentle and reassuring.

She nodded and held her palms out, retracting the ice from his body. _Love, love, love. Anna loves you. Hans... is your friend._

Before she knew it, the ice had cleared from the room and Hans was standing perfectly unharmed.

She couldn't help the force that pushed the corners of her mouth into smile. "I did it!" she laughed, raising her hands to inspect the powers that hadn't failed her. "I wasn't even scared!"

She looked up to Hans, who sported a similar, proud smile. "Great job."

The queen had the sudden impulse to run at him, to feel him in her arms and know that she hadn't hurt him. She didn't fight the urge.

The thirteenth prince was surprised with the speed that she rushed and jumped at him. His eyes were wide as Elsa squeezed him in an unexpected show of touch. Immediately, his muscles relaxed and he let his arms wrap around her.

Elsa bit her lip and pulled away just slightly. His arms held her loosely enclosed.

"I'm... I'm sorry," she said, but her smile almost suggested she wasn't. "I was just excited..."

"No, no, it's fine," he dismissed it, his own cheeky grin growing. "After all, we're friends now, right?"

Elsa laughed, a sound she was sure she hadn't heard since Hans first appeared. That only widened her grin.

Locked in an embrace seemed so effortless, so natural. So surprisingly comfortable. Elsa savored the sensation before her mind could clear and tell her she was being ridiculous. But they weren't interrupted by her mind.

A sudden sharp knock made them both jump out of each other's arms. Hans' two cheek blush set in as Elsa cleared her throat and said, "Come in."

It was a servant who looked more distressed than Elsa liked.

"Your majesty's attention is required immediately," he said, complexion pale as death.

Elsa furrowed her brow and stepped closer to him. "What is it?"

"It's a body, your majesty."

All the happiness drained out of Elsa as her heart . Not Anna. It can't be Anna.

"It's... it's not..." she stammered, but couldn't bring herself to say it.

The servant seemed to understand, and shook his head. "No, it's not Anna, your majesty."

A wave of relief flooded her, only to be washed away with anxiety at his next words.

"It's the King of the Southern Isles."

* * *

**For tho****se of you who keep asking for Olaf; ta-da! And now the problem of missing family gets a little (a lot) more drastic.**

**Super sorry about the late update; I'm on a mission trip to Montana and the most technology I can have is my phone, and updating this slipped my mind. **

**Thanks again to all you beautiful people who leave reviews.**


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